World of Silence
by Phoenix53
Summary: When Middle Earth is threatened by a new evil, the Fellowship must seek the last of an ancient race for aid. But will they be strong enough to defeat their new enemey or will all of Middle Earth fall to its evil? LOC
1. Collisions

**Chapter One: Collision**

Meroryan laid her books on the table, sighing with exhaustion. Classes had seemed to last forever. What made it worse, was that her literary history teacher had decided to assign a 20 page paper and make it due the following Monday. Seeing as it was only Friday, her time was extremely limited as to how much time she could put it off.

She dragged her tired body upstairs, feeling like she could collapse where she stood. Upon reaching her room, Meroryan headed for her dresser. She pulled out a pair of butter soft jeans and a dark green tank top in place of her khaki skirt and honey colored sweater. She sighed in contentment, letting the feeling of comfort wash over her. This was what she wanted to wear all day, every day, for the rest of the centuries. There was nothing quite like being able to MOVE when you walked or sat or whatever it was you were doing at the time.

She wandered over to the window, opening the blind to look out on the white world below. The forecaster had been right, for once, when he had said that snow was in the air. It had managed to drop a good three inches last night and was still falling quietly on the silent world beneath it. Everything was so clean, the blanket of fresh snow covering the remaining leaves and dead grass that had scattered the lawns of every house down the street. Meroryan loved the snow. The silence of it made everything seem so much brighter, more pronounced. The world, in her opinion, was too noisy. No one seemed to take time to appreciate the beauty of the world before them. Too many individuals would run around like rats in a cage, hurrying from here to there, never pausing to take the fresh air into their lungs, to be conscious of the new flowers, or listen to the larks song. It saddened her that people now would never pause in their daily routine to take in what was around them.

Sighing, she dropped the curtain, letting it fall back into place. So much had changed in the past two millennia. She should know. She had been there. Meroryan was the last of her people. An ancient race, immortal, powerful. The Tua De Dannaa were all extinct save one. She had lived these past twelve centuries without her family, moving from place to place, watching the world and its people evolve into the creatures that they were today. The technologies, the science of the world in which she now lived fascinated and amused her. She had become addicted to the modern conveniences that this world now offered. She could remember living without running water, bathing in fresh running streams high in the mountains. The luxury of instant food or coffee made her smile. It was a world of ease that had replaced the world of terror and fury she once knew.

Her smile faded as she recalled the past. To her, it seemed only days, weeks ago when the Aurelians had attacked her beloved home. They had destroyed everything that Meroryan had held dear. She had been fortunate to survive. At the time of the attack, she had been visiting with her friend Nadriel, one of the ancient ones who had taught her to harness and use her powers for good. Her father had not approved of Nadriel teaching her the ancient arts, but had conceded and withdrawn his protests when he had seen his daughter's disappointed look. So, Meroryan had spent nearly every afternoon in Nadriel's presence. She had learned to channel her powers, coming to understand the ways of the ancients, of the earth, and utilizing the power she felt there. Nadriel had once again been leading her through one of the ancient rituals when sounds of the attack had reached her ears. She had raced Relampago along the fields, dreading in her heart what she would find when she made it home. But even that had not prepared her for what met her eyes.

The Aurelians had spared no one. Women had been lying slain on the hard ground, their dead children still clutched tightly to them, as though to protect them from this fate. The men had been scattered about, many of them with their weapons still clutched tight in their fists, the blood staining them a testament to the battle that had taken place not moments before. Meroryan, being consumed with fear and terror, had raced up the stairs of the palace to where her family would have been. She had paused now and again, coming across the bodies of her friends, laying motionless on the stairs, their blood coating the once white marble. Meroryan had fallen on her knees beside one body in particular. Galandrie, captain of the guards. He had been like a brother to her, teaching her in the art of archery and swordsmanship. He lay then, as if in sleep, his eyes closed, his face relaxed. Meroryan had touched the broad, proud forehead, feeling the iciness beneath her fingers. Tears had streamed silently down her cheeks, her pain filled eyes had taken in everything. Her maid, and truest fried, Eararadith, lying close to her brother, Forfirith. She had muttered a silent prayer over those she passed, letting her feet carry her closer to the throne room.

Her father was the first one she had reached. He lay on his side, his once laughing green eyes open and lifeless. She had found her mother and sisters in the far corner of the room. Their weavings now covered with their life's blood. They had been brutalized, their bodies ripped apart. Meroryan couldn't help the bile that had risen to the back of her throat. The servants, her friends, lay scattered about, trays of food and wine soiling her mother's most prized rushes that had once decorated this beautiful place. The stench of death hung heavily in the air, the silence itself deafening. Nothing stirred. And Meroryan knew that there was nothing left of her people.

Helplessness and rage had consumed her. She remembered taking up the bow and quiver of arrows which Galandrie had given her for her birthday one year. Relampago had stood waiting in the courtyard. His eyes had turned to Meroryan's, and she had felt his understanding wash through her. He was another of the ancients, a noble and proud steed who had become enchanted by the sprite little child in the early centuries of her life. She was the only one who could ride him, their wild spirits as one when they raced together.

The only thing that had stopped her from destroying the entire Aurelian race that day had been Nadriel. He had come swift on her heels and had stayed her from taking revenge. At that time, she had raged against him, feeling the pain inside of her boil over. And he had been there when she had finally cried, holding her against the anguish. Together, they had buried the bodies of her people, laying them to rest in the forest of their homeland. Nadriel had taken her in, sheltered her. He had continued to teach her, guiding her through the world of men. Nadriel had become the one true blessing in her life. Relampago had remained at her side. Always the three of them had moved as one, melding their futures together.

And now the future was the present. Meroryan shook herself, brining her mind back to the present. The past was over with. The doorbell rang and she hurried to answer it. Her friend Elsie stood on the other side, bundled from head to toe in winter wear.

"It's freakin' freezing outside!" She hurried in and shut the door behind herself. Unwrapping the scarf from around her mouth, she said to Meroryan, "Hey Mer, ready to hit the books for the hermit's exam?"

Meroryan smiled, her eyes crinkling. Elsie was a good friend. She was bright and exuberant, her enthusiasm contagious. They had met on the first day of their Literature class. Meroryan had tried her best to avoid any and all contact. But Elsie had other ideas. She had approached Meroryan out of curiosity more than anything. Meroryan had been sitting in the back of the room making Elsie wonder what would make someone shy away from human contact like that. So she had moved to the seat right next to her. At first, Meroryan had been reluctant to engage in conversation with her, but it didn't take long before she was smiling back and laughing with Elsie.

Elsie was a petit young woman with deep brown eyes and light blond hair. She was slightly plump, but not overweight by any means. Many men flocked to her because of her exuberance. But it didn't hurt that she was a handful that men admired and, for some, enjoyed. Meroryan was her direct opposite. She was tall and graceful, with the emerald green eyes that signified one of the royal house of the Tua De Dannaa. Her hair was long down her back, a thick and rich dark brown mane. Her quiet and calm demeanor was more often than not off-putting to men. They had nicknamed her the ice queen. Oh, she had guy friends, but no one that was truly interested in trying to get behind the cool façade. Which was exactly the way she wanted it.

"I'm certain that I'm prepared for whatever you think you can throw at me dear friend." Meroryan smiled lightly, enjoying the challenging look that came into Elsie's eyes.

"Well you better be. After all that time we spent last week going over this crap, I expect miracles from the brain of yours." The two friends laughed together and headed for the table in the kitchen. Meroryan set some water on to boil for tea, another luxury she enjoyed, and took down two mugs from the cupboards.

"What do you think the Hermit will put on the exam?" Meroryan asked Elsie nonchalantly. The Hermit, as his students affectionately called him, was Professor Harris. He was a short, stubby little man with a brilliant mind for literature. But his specialty was in fantastical reality. More specifically, the Lord of the Rings, which was what they were studying at this point.

"Not too sure. You never know with him. One minute, you're looking at specific story line analysis, the next, character development." Elsie looked at her friend and smiled ruefully. "Hopefully, he'll be gentle on us. That 1984 exam damn near killed me!" Meroryan merely laughed. "Oh sure, easy for you to laugh," Elsie scowled good-naturedly, "You weren't the one he called into his office to discuss alternate plans for passing his class!"

"I'm also not the one who didn't study as well as she should have." Elsie muttered something unfriendly about obnoxious friends and self-righteous 'attitudes' under her breath. Meroryan smiled and set the hot tea in front of Elsie. "Let's get started shall we?"

For the next three hours, the two women delved into the land of Middle Earth. Meroryan had found this book to be intriguing. She knew it was mostly fantastical. And yet she knew there to be some truth to Tolkein's words. She could well remember a time when such stories of elves and dwarves were passed around the fires of her home. The warriors used to tell great tales of strength and courage exhibited by these seemingly imaginary races of people. Meroryan had always been held captive by such stories, especially those of the elves. The race of the 'fair ones', as was the term her people had used, had always piqued a great interest in Meroryan, even when she was young. Myths and legends were based on truths, her father had told her once. The 'fair ones' had lived long before her time, in an age of darkness. They had passed on to the Palace of Light only when the Earth had no longer been threatened by such evils.

And with their passing, came the time of men, who had flourished in the Earth they had inherited. She could not recall what the ancients had said had happened to the other races. Only that they, too, had soon passed into myth and legend. Meroryan shook herself hard, drawing her attention back to the task at hand. Such things were best left to memories.

Middle Earth: 18 months after the destruction of the Ring

The ground trembled. In the caves where they slept, the remaining Orcs and Uruk-hai felt the stirring presence of evil. The ominous sounds grew within their taverns of the deep until it roared to life through the passages. All sound, save for the growing howl, stopped. There was complete stillness among the dark ones. The greatest of the Uruk-hai stood, listening closely to the voice the wind carried with it. It spoke to him, calling him to gather closely. And then he heard it, the shrill laughter rife with triumph.

Some of his followers crowded closely behind him. "What is it Garnor? What has come?" These whispers and many like it were close at his back, but he ignored them all. He could feel the presence of the evil one. The time for revenge was at hand.

A sudden shape loomed before him, taking its form in the inky blackness before it. The creature emerged from the darkness, radiating power and force. Garnor smiled wickedly. Yes, the time had come. He kneeled before the creature, the others quickly following suit.

And in the stillness of the caverns, one word could be heard echoing as a battle cry among all dark creatures: "Master"

Nadriel raised his head into the wind. The sky was darkening. The trees in the surrounding glade spoke to him of an awakening evil. He knew that the time was coming. It could no longer be put off. He turned quietly to the stallion that stood faithfully by his side. "She must be summoned."

The clock on the mantle read six in the evening. Elsie shut her copy of the Lord of the Rings tiredly. It had been a long day for both of them. And this text was proving more difficult to read and understand the longer one studied it.

"What do you think?" Meroryan asked Elsie quietly. Her friend had tilted her head back against the chair and was rubbing her eyes. She paused, sighing heavily. Looking at Meroryan, she simply shook her head.

"No clue girlie. There's so much info in these books I couldn't even tell you where he would begin with the questions."

"Think we stand a chance of at least getting a C?"

"HA!" Her friend merely snorted, chuckling darkly, "At this point, I'd be happy to get an F, which I highly doubt will happen."

Meroryan smiled sadly. "Giving up hope already?"

"I thought I had it down pat," Elsie said, moving to place her cup in the sink. "But now, after going over all the questions and terms he wants us to know, I'm not so certain."

Meroryan made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, her gaze fixed on the book in front of her. Unlike Elsie's copy, her book was bound in a rich green leather, the pages yellowed with age. It was one of THE original books. She had managed to snag it many years ago at a market in England, her current residence at the time. Elsie came to lean her hip on the edge of the counter next to Meroryan's place at the table.

She nodded her head towards the book in front of her, a frown nit between her delicate brows. "Where did you get that? It looks like it's worth big bucks. I'm sure a poor starving college student like yourself couldn't have afforded that!" She smirked, rich brown eyes meeting cool green ones.

Meroryan merely arched a brow, an amused glint coming into her eyes. Poor would hardly describe her circumstances. "I retrieved this copy at a market in England." She purposefully left out the date of her acquisition.

"Really? Anything interesting left in it? An old love letter? A manuscript from Shakespeare's times?" Elsie teased lightly. "That book looks like it's a hundred years old at least."

"Perhaps. As to whether or not there is anything in it, I did find an unusual slip of aged paper in it when I first opened it. It had strange lettering on it. I didn't think much of it." Odd that she should think of it now. That Elsie would ask such a question. She glanced curiously at her friend, but didn't really expect an answer.

"So where is it?" Elsie asked excitedly. "Let's pop that sucker open and read the darn thing already."

Meroryan nodded, moving slowly and hesitantly toward the drawer she had placed it in when she had first found it. She didn't know why, but something seemed to be holding her back. She was uncertain as to what exactly was happening, but the wind seemed to speak of an undefined peril. Meroryan was suddenly very afraid to open that note and read the words inscribed upon it. Her feet dragged across the carpet, her steps heavy and laden with doubt.

She pulled the drawer of the end table open, reaching for the folded parchment that lay on top of the pile therein. Elsie, who had followed her into the living room, snatched the note up, excitement in her eyes. She ripped the paper open and quickly recognized the words as elvish.

"Hey hey, look at this. Elvish. Someone probably thought this up and put this in here as a secret message joke or something."

Meroryan turned, a warning on her lips. But Elsie was already slowly reading the words inscribed. And it was suddenly too late. With every breath she uttered, Meroryan felt frozen to the spot. The words she had been about to shout died before they could be spoken. The ground seemed to shift beneath her feet.

Imya i'kaimela ikotane lle autuva Ana thar ndorrim tar i'hisie Sinta n'uma ner lle firimar eska Tula

Elsie had finished the incantation on the paper, and looked up in horror at her friend. Mist swirled dark around them. Then, they knew nothing.

A sudden stillness swept over the dark creature. He raised his head, sniffing the air expectantly. The orcs ceased their preparations, casting uneasy glances at their master. For minutes, not a sound was made in the caverns below the mountains. Then, like a crack of lightning, shrill laughter filled the emptiness.

"So, Nadriel. You bring the guardian to this realm to stop me. Very well then. Let us test her strength. Let her come." All standing close to him felt his malice like a wave upon them. His cruel laughter rang with triumph. The orcs, the evil creatures that plagued Middle Earth, shook with fear. Evil had taken on a new form.

Meroryan struggled to open her eyes. Everything in her body hurt, and she felt as though her lungs were on fire. She couldn't draw a proper breath. Shallow, gasping nuances of air burned their way down her throat and she had to force her breathing to calm. Her head spun dizzily, nausea roiling through her. She was afraid to move, the pain temporarily overriding any sense of caution that she might have once had. For the moment, she was contented to lie there, letting her body and its aches slowly ease before she attempted to move. She waited for only a moment before attempting to get a look at her surroundings.

Opening her eyes proved to be more difficult than she had thought, though. The brightness that was before her only made the bile rise to her throat more quickly. She fought it, bringing it under enough control so that she could at last open her eyes and see what was before her. She was lying on her back in the middle of a glade of trees. The sunlight that had caused her such pain moments before was being filtered through the surrounding maples. Tall and strong, the whispered softly in the slight breeze that encircled them, singing peace to the surrounding area. Meroryan set about to determine the extent of her injuries. She flexed her muscles, wincing against the pain that assailed her. The most damage appeared to come from her right knee and her right side. From the pain in her breathing, she figured she had either broken or severely bruised several ribs. She cautiously raised her hand, swiping at the moisture at her left temple. Her hand came away sticky with blood. She must have hit her head on a rough patch of ground. Probing the wound, she found that the gash wasn't very deep, merely gritty and coated with half-dried blood.

Moving her head to the side, she regarded the area where she lay, regretting the action almost immediately as it sent a wave of pain washing through her. Gritting her teeth, she struggled valiantly to sit up. After three attempts, her efforts were rewarded and she sat a bit disjointedly on the ground. Looking around, she spotted her friend Elsie only a few feet off, lying on her side. Blood ran down the scratch on her cheek. Meroryan slowly rolled to her knees, leaning heavily on her left one. She finally stood, gasping with every breath. Rushes of pain ran from her knee to her head and back again, one long continuous wave of treacherous pain. She attempted to walk, only to nearly fall flat on her face as her knee gave way beneath her. Catching herself, Meroryan's eyes hardened with determination. Her friend needed her. There was no way she would give up on her now.

What took only moments, seemed to her an eternity. She sank heavily to the ground beside her friend. Her fingers sought, and found, a pulse. Sighing in relief, Meroryan then set about discovering the extent of the damage her friend had sustained. The gash on her cheek appeared to be the worst of it. Meroryan shook her friend lightly, calling out to her softly.

"Come on Elsie, time to get up. Wakey, wakey." She slapped her good cheek gently, continuing her mantra. "Elsie. Elsie. Wake up hun." Elsie moaned, her eyes fluttering open. She gazed at Meroryan in confusion.

"What happened, Mer?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, shaking her head. All she could remember was standing in the living room, listening to the words that Elsie was reading, and then waking up to the pain. Her head jerked upright, causing stars to wink before her eyes. She clutched her head, realizing the enormity of what had happened to them. "The words," she whispered quietly.

"The words?" Elsie looked at her, completely confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The words, on the parchment." Elsie looked at her for a moment before comprehension dawned, and with it, horror.

"Oh my God! What have I done?" She hid her face in her hands, her breath coming in short gasps.

Meroryan merely laid a hand on her friends' shoulder. "Come on. It wasn't your fault. There was no way you could have known what reading the parchment would bring about. Don't blame yourself."

"But how can I not? I'm the one that insisted on seeing it and reading what it said wasn't I? This is all my fault. If I would've just kept my curiosity under my hat then none of this would have happened!"

"You can't be certain of that. It might have happened regardless. Anyway, this is not the time to contemplate whose fault it was or wasn't. What's more important now is that we take care of our wounds and figure out where we are," Meroryan looked around her. The trees were old, their branches reaching far up into the loft. The forest beyond had an ominous feel. There was hardly any light beyond the glade where they now lay, the trees growing more dense as far as Meroryan could see. The darkness within was terrifying.

"Where do you suppose we are then?" Elsie asked in a whisper. The tremor in her voice belied the calm tone, hinting at the fear that assailed her.

Meroryan made to comfort her friend. "I'm not too sure. But wherever it is, I don't suppose we'll be lacking wood for a fire should we have cause for one." Her voice was calm, the light tone easing some of the tension in the surrounding air. She turned to Elsie, levering her arms beneath those of her friend. "Come now, let's get you up. Then you can tell me if anything else hurts."

Slowly, the two gathered their strength enough the stand. Elsie wobbled only for a moment before gaining her balance. "I think I'm ok. My cheek and chest hurt, but that's about it." She glanced worriedly at her friend. "You on the other hand don't look so good." She reached up a hand to touch Meroryan's left temple lightly. "That cut looks bad. What else hurts?"

"I'm fine," she assured her, "Just a dew cuts and bruises. My ribs hurt, but not overly so. I think I might have twisted my knee as well when I fell, but I can walk on it without it causing me too much pain."

Elsie studied her face for a moment, not believing her when she said everything was alright. Her face was entirely too pale and the area around her mouth was white with stress. She only hoped they could find some friendly people to help them. Being stranded in a strange land with no food or shelter was not exactly her idea of a good time out. She looked at Meroryan steadily, asking the question that had been raging in Meroryan's own mind since waking. "Which way should we go?"

Meroryan looked into the woods beyond. She had been trying to figure out just that. She had no idea where the spell had landed them. They could be anywhere in time or place. But she didn't feel the need to worry her friend with such details right now. All that could wait until they were settled in front of a warm fire with food and friendly company. "I'm not sure," she said, shaking her head. She motioned her friend to silence, letting her senses be carried away by the wind. She held herself like that for a few moments, listening intently to whatever the woods would tell her, a stranger in their midst. After a few minutes, she looked at Elsie, nodding her head to her left. "That way."

"How can you be so sure?" Elsie asked her as they started their slow walk through the woods before them.

"I'm not," she replied, smiling wistfully at her friend. "But the oppressive feeling that I have about this forest feels less threatening from this direction."

Elsie looked through the trees directly in front of them. "Right," she said, then added, "Well look at it this way: at least we aren't naked!" Meroryan chuckled lightly along with Elsie. True they had managed to make it through whatever had brought them here with clothes intact. Meroryan glanced down at her feet, wiggling her bare toes against the cool ground. She hadn't been wearing shoes when they had been transported to wherever they now stood. She sighed, thinking that they couldn't be lucky all the time. The started walking slowly, making their way between the ancient maples who had guarded them for such a short time. As they passed one of the great trees, Meroryan laid her palm against the rough bark. She could feel it stir beneath her touch as she murmured her thanks. And so the two friends supported each other beyond the glade, the forest swallowing them up as they entered.

Imya i'kaimela ikotane lle autuva; Ana thar ndorrim tar i'hisie; Sinta n'uma ner lle firimar eska; Tula-roughly means, "Through the dreaming so will you go, to distant lands beyond the mist, to know no more your mortal home. Come."


	2. Reunions

**Chapter Two: Reunions**

The trees swayed quietly in the breeze. Everything around sang with joy. Birds sang among the branches, squirrels quarreled good naturedly as they argued over some trivial point or another. Even the breeze seemed to share in the celebration. Light and hope had once again reached the lands of Middle Earth. All forms of life rejoiced, basking in the glow of freedom as one who had been enslaved for many centuries on end. There were still dangers in the world, but the destruction of the shadow had greatly diminished their power over the free peoples. The elves of Middle Earth felt the relief from the trees and creatures around them. Even mortal men could not deny the air of tranquility that seemed to permeate the soul of the forest through which they rode.

And so it was to these sounds that the company rode unhindered through the forests just south of Rivendell. Lord Elrond had requested the presence of those members of the Fellowship. There was to be month long festivity. All were looking forward to the much needed relaxation and peace. The horses moved without speed, as though there wasn't a care in the world. There was the occasional clink of armor, for even in these times of peace, wild bands of orcs could still attack.

The remainder of the Fellowship rode at the front of the procession. Aragorn rode proudly beside his queen. How glad he was to be able to return to the house of his childhood. His carriage spoke of his proud nobility and he basked in the glow of happiness and euphoria that had yet to wear off from his wedding only two days previous. He turned to study those that rode around him. Arwen sat to his right, proud tall and beautiful. He felt again the familiar jolt of longing and passion within his chest. He had expected it to slowly recede in time, but the exact opposite had happened. If anything, he loved her more now than when he had first laid eyes upon her beauty in Rivendell that fateful day so many years ago.

Arwen, feeling the eyes of her beloved upon her, turned and smiled warmly. She reached out and the two grasped hands, letting their adoration and love shine brightly between them. After a few moments, Aragorn forced himself to look just passed Arwen to the small beings riding behind her.

Pippin and Merry were currently involved in a serious discussion of some sort. Probably about food, Aragorn smiled to himself. It was true that the two friends spent most of their time conversing about the finer points of meals and what the most delightsome samples to have would be. Pippin was gesturing wildly at something Merry was saying, and in turn, Merry came back with a fierce argument of his own. To his right, Arwen laughed suddenly, drawing his attention back to her.

"What are they talking about now?"

She smiled at him, mirth lighting her eyes to a brilliant blue. "Pippin is trying to convince Merry that radishes remain the perfect side dish to roast duck, while Merry is vehemently arguing for onions. I believe that they have reached an impass of sorts."

Aragorn chuckled at this. Well he could remember the stomach that these particular hobbits possessed and it didn't surprise him in the least that they would be arguing over such a trivial matter as this. He let his gaze drift back to the procession, his eyes straying to the other two small, child-like persons that rode in their midst. Frodo and Sam were farther back, riding in quiet conversation. Aragorn smiled softly, sympathy and sadness straying into his eyes. There was a stillness to Frodo that had not been there before. Ever since the Ring, he had been much quieter, more intense than the joyful, youth driven hobbit that he had once known. He knew it was only a matter of time before he took himself across the sea as was his right as a ring-bearer. Though it saddened him to think of such a time, he knew that in the end, Frodo would finally have peace again. That is all that he could ask.

Sam rode close to his master, as though sensing his melodramatic mood. Occasionally, Frodo would smile slightly and chuckle at something Sam had said. It was good to know that Sam was there for Frodo. His loyalty and faithfulness had been a much needed anchor in times past. Even now, Samwise Gamgee was taking upon himself to see to the needs of his companion. And it was a heartening prospect.

A snort to the left caused him to shift in his saddle once again and shake his head at the sight he beheld. Gimli was busy verbally berating Legolas. Not that this was an uncommon occurrence. To be sure, the two could rarely be found together without some sort of verbal sparring match or carefree banter to be heard. Yet it was known to all within the Fellowship, and even to those who came in contact with them, that their friendship was deep and strong. Hard times and war could do that to people, true. But for this awkward pair, their love and tie was also born from trust and understanding. The feud that had lasted for so long between their kin and peoples had caused the two to share an even greater bond of everlasting friendship to form between them. But to hear them talk to each other, you would never know it.

"I say again, Master Elf, when will you elves learn that trees are nothing more than tall sticks of firewood?"

Legolas merely chuckled softly. "What would a dwarf know of trees? You spend so much time burrowing into the earth that even the trees have been forced to forget the memory of your people."

Gimli growled in his throat. "We dwarves do not burrow. Mining for precious gems that are of greater worth than your dear trees and stars that you sing so fondly of is an art. Which is not something I would expect an elf such as you to understand!"

Legolas gave a very un-elf like snort and dared to question, "And what sort of elf am I exactly Master Gimli?"

Gimli grinned evilly, glad to see the elf fall into one of his traps for a change. "Why, the only kind I've had the opportunity to meet." He let the silence fall before he continued. "The prissy kind." Gimli smiled broadly when he heard Legolas choke in front of him. His grin broadened as Legolas turned in his seat to glare at him.

"Elves are NOT prissy. Just because we care about our appearance and keep ourselves clean does not in any way make up prissy." As he said the last, Legolas whipped his head around, causing his hair to fly wildly about. Gimli could not hold back his roar of laughter this time. Aragorn even grinned broadly at the scene before him, hiding his smile behind his hand and struggling to keep his laughter contained. He dared a glance at Arwen and his laughter increased. Her indignant look only caused him greater mirth.

Thus was the scene as the hobbits rode forward to see what all the commotion was about. Aragorn, the great King of Gondor, valiantly trying to contain his own laughter and mirth, Arwen, his sweet Queen, glaring daggers at her husband, Gimli striving to maintain his seat on Arod's back, not very successfully, and Legolas looking at him as though he was contemplating helping his riding companion to lose the seat he was so precariously perched on.

"What's happening?" Pippin asked Merry quietly.

"I'm not too sure Pip. But I don't think I want to be the one to ask right now." Merry responded.

"I think Gimli must have said something to Legolas about elves," Sam spoke up from behind them. "See. Look at the way Arwen is glaring at Aragorn and Legolas at Gimli. They look right indignant don't they Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo smiled slightly. "I think you're right Sam. The elves do look a bit put out."

They were close enough now to hear Legolas say to Gimli, "Well, perhaps the elves are prissy, but at least we don't smell. Lord knows one could smell dwarves and humans from miles off they reek so." He shot both Gimli and Aragorn a scathing look before returning to the task of scanning the forest.

"Ah, so that's what they were arguing about this time." Pippin nodded his head, understanding dawning.

Merry turned his head away so the others couldn't see his grin, Frodo laughed outright, and Sam hid a smile as Aragorn's laughter died almost instantly. He glanced sharply at Arwen, who was the one now consumed with ill-concealed laughter, and then turned his best I'm-the-King-and-you're-my- subject look on Legolas. "I would think you'd take greater care with such ill-words about humans, Legolas, considering the company with which you ride." His voice was stern, but there was a merry twinkle in his eye.

"Can I help it if I must point out that the company with which I ride has such a foul smell? I've endured as far as I could without complaint. I merely feel that the members of this company should be aware of their physical state lest they blame an attack of rogue orcs on something else." Legolas shrugged his shoulders negligently. His face was impassive but his eyes told another story.

Gimli, who had held his peace until this moment, chose then to add his own thoughts. "Methinks the elf is having trouble telling the difference betweens aromas," he said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. He glanced askance at the hobbits that rode just behind them, his eyes glittering with newfound mischief. "He has the smell of humans and dwarves confused with hobbit smell."

This caused an uproar of indignant protestations from the hobbits. Merry and Pippin were yelling at Gimli that his nose was clearly malfunctioning, while Sam was stating that he had just enjoyed a bath not one week ago and clearly it couldn't be him that they were smelling. Frodo was about to fall off the saddle of his pony his laughter was so great. Aragorn was clutching at his side helplessly and Arwen was laughing melodically along with them. Even Legolas was grinning broadly at the four tiny men who were looking as though they wished to disfigure a certain dwarf. The warriors of Gondor that rode with them glanced at one another, confusion written plainly on their faces. They understood very little of the people that they rode with other than their King and Queen. So it was no surprise that they would be dumbfounded by the jokes and comments made by their party.

The chaos ensued for a few more minutes. Merry and Pippin were dangerously close to losing their own seats on their ponies, so frustrated were they. They were now shouting at Gimli, their noise disrupting the quiet stillness that had surrounded the party thus far on their journey. Aragorn quickly held up his hand for silence, not counting on being totally ignored by the hobbits. He cleared his throat in another attempt to gain the attention of the others. He glanced in frustration at first Arwen, who merely smiled demurely at him, then to Legolas, who raised an eyebrow at him in a parody of a shrug. The King of Gondor shook his head, raising a hand over his face and sighing in defeat. It appeared he would have to resort to.less than kingly measure to gain the attention of the five smallest members of their company.

"Would you KINDLY cease this arguing!" Aragorn's bellow echoed through the clearing. All conversation stopped and five pairs of eyes looked at him cautiously. He sighed, rubbing his hand against his forehead wearily. "If we are to reach Rivendell within the next two days, we should be moving much more quickly than we are at present. Could you possibly hold your discussion until we make camp this evening?"

Sam, Merry, and Pippin nodded their heads, their gazes now turned back to Gimli who merely snorted and said, "Agreed." Aragorn nodded his thanks, turning a stern glare to Gimli, clearly blaming him for his current headache and position. The soldiers were staring at him in amazement and Arwen was apparently smiling to the trees in front of her. As they once again began their trek to Rivendell, Aragorn moved his steed so that his thigh was brushing Arwen's and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Do not think you will get out of it that easily," he whispered. Arwen simply grinned in response and urged her horse forward at a slightly quicker pace. Legolas rode up to take her place beside Aragorn, smiling at the look of consternation on his friend's face.

"I would not ponder on it for too long my friend," he told the ranger.

Aragorn was shaken out of his reverie by Legolas' voice, and he glanced over at his friend in embarrassment. "I know not of which you speak."

Legolas smiled, but it was Gimli that responded to his attempt at innocent misunderstanding. "Women are far too complicated to understand Aragorn. Best to not even attempt it for our feeble brains are no match for their superior understanding and complex intentions."

Legolas nodded his agreement. "I have known Arwen long years, and never have I been able to understand her ways. In this, Gimli speaks true, though how a dwarf such as he would know of these things is beyond even the comprehension of an Eldar like myself."

Gimli snorted, glaring at his friends' back. "A dwarf such as myself? Isn't that a bit of the pot calling the kettle black? And what of you Master Elf? I have yet to see you settled with a fair elf maiden and trying to understand her ways!"

Legolas laughed hardily, the joyful sound ringing melodically through the trees. "I will settle down only after I have found a truly beautiful dwarf maiden for you my friend. I would be there to help you decide on the proper mate, for I would not see you encumbered by one who was unworthy of your.skill and talent." Legolas choked on the last of his words, unable to control the snort of laughter that escaped past his lips.

Gimli growled in warning at his friend while Aragorn chuckled quietly. "I thank you for your advice my friends," he said quickly, before Gimli could come up with another retort. "And I will take it to heart. But now we must set our sights to other things. The night sky grows dim and I would find a place to camp ere nightfall. Times of peace these may be, but I fear that orcs still roam the land. I want to be prepared for any eventuality."

Legolas and Gimli nodded their agreement. "I would be grateful for a chance to rest for the night for I believe this unstable beast that Legolas insists upon riding has found every bump in the rode this day."

"I assure you, dear friend, that Arod has done no such thing. He cannot help the fact that you are such an unaccomplished rider. You would do well, Master Dwarf, to learn how to ride a horse. It would save you such.discomfort."

"I would rather trust my feet on the ground than my life upon the back of one of these beasts. However, I would not be opposed to riding with you on another mount. I do not think this one is quite normal."

Arod snorted and tossed his head. He danced a little to the side, making Gimli clutch harder to the back of Legolas' tunic in order to maintain his perch. Legolas reached down to stroke the side of the stallion's neck and spoke in low tones, soothing the animal. "Ro uuma hanta lle vanim ar'maksa vano, Arod. Ro naa linae naug." Arod tossed his head once more at this, but settled down to his smooth pace once again. Gimli started again to berate the elf for his choice of mounts, but one look towards the ground below him changed his mind. He would have a talk with Legolas after hey had stopped for the evening.

The hobbits, who had been trotting silently behind and had heard Aragorn call for them to start looking for a good place to make camp, began to have their own discussion about what to make for dinner. Dusk fell, the dark colors ribboning across in the sky in hues of reds and violets. Stars began to dot the canvas, Earendil being the first to shine in the deepening black of the night. The moon rose, full and glorious, casting its light upon the world below, white, ethereal, mysterious. The odd company made their camp at the edge of Trollshaws. They would be able to reach Rivendell by late afternoon on the morrow. For now, there was no great rush. Samwise and the other hobbits set about preparing the meal that was to be shared by all. The scent of roasting meat and vegetables filled the air. Grumbling stomachs could be heard echoing along the night. Soon, all were seated comfortably around the fire that had been built to ward off the chill night air.

"A fine meal as always Master Gamgee," Gimli commented around a mouthful of savory meat.

Sam blushed furiously, pleased yet always embarrassed to receive praise from even his friends. "Thank you, Mister Gimli."

"I am surprised Sam," Legolas said from his seat. Sam looked at him in confusion as did many of the others who were currently enjoying their own meals.

"What do you mean?" Pippin asked curiously. "Sam's always been a fine cook! I wager even the Elves would have difficulty making food as well as Sam makes it."

There was a murmur of approval from the hobbits at this statement, as well as from the men, but Legolas merely chuckled and shook his head. "I was not speaking of the meal, nor its quality Pippin. The food is, as always, exceptional Sam." Sam blushed again, and Legolas continued, "No, I was referring to the fact that he understood Gimli's praise. It sounded like he was talking through a mouthful of marbles."

Gimli choke and spluttered, spitting out a mouthful of wine in the process. His glare could have split a tree in half, so fierce was it. Aragorn sighed and shook his head. Did it never end? Gimli sat straighter, his eyes boring holes into the laughing elf. "If you would like to keep that fair face of yours attached to you shoulders, I suggest that you keep silent for the remainder of the night, Legolas!"

"Indeed," remarked Legolas. "I would think that you would not be able to hear any comments I made this night, especially since you snore so loudly in your sleep."

Gimli growled threateningly in his throat. His hand strayed for his axe, his warning clear. "I would think that you would have no room to complain about snoring, Master Elf." Legolas raised his eyebrow, practically daring the dwarf to continue. "You snore so loud, 'tis a wonder the trees are not felled throughout the entire forest of Mirkwood!"

To Gimli's left, Merry leaned over to whisper to Frodo, "Do Elves snore?"

Legolas, with his keen hearing, answered the question for him. "No, Merry, Elves do not snore. I think that Gimli confuses his own nightly habits with that of those who surround him." Legolas sighed melodramatically, a twinkle lighting in the depths of his sea colored eyes. "It must be the habit of all dwarves to lay their shortcomings at the feet of innocent companions."

Before Gimli could retort, Arwen spoke up from beside her husband. "If you children are through with your conversation, perhaps we could all help clean up and retire for this evening. I myself am anxious to reach Rivendell as soon as possible tomorrow and it would help if we could make an early start." She cast her gaze meaningfully at the two instigators. Gimli, however, was too busy glaring at his friend to notice. He finally seceded the victory to Legolas, nodding his head at Arwen. But he promised himself that he would find a way to repay the elf before the day was out tomorrow.

The watches were chosen, Legolas to have the first one, the captain of the guards of Gondor would take the second, and two of his commanders would split the third and fourth. The hobbits set to cleaning up the dishes and mess from their meal and Gimli and Aragorn went to the edge of the camp to enjoy their pipes. Legolas walked with silent steps to the outermost part of the camp, his senses alert for any noises that were out of place in the night. He stood with his bow folded in his arms, eyes scanning the blackness beyond while he listened to the sounds of the camp behind him.

Merry and Pippin were continuing the discussion from earlier about the most favorable dishes to go with certain foods. Sam was aiding Frodo in setting out their bedrolls on a soft patch of grass close to the fire. Gimli and Aragorn were still smoking their pipes contentedly, their voices drifting softly along the wind. The soldiers were readying their own bedrolls, several settling the horses for the night. Legolas turned his head slightly when he heard light footfalls approach behind him.

"Earendil sila tiri sina undome."

"Amin Arwen. Tanya ta uma. Tehta en'estela ar'seere ten'sina palurin." Legolas responded, bowing before the queen.

"Long has it been since we have been able to see it so clearly in the night sky."

Legolas nodded, fixing his gaze to the stars above. Earendil was beaming forth this night, outshining all other stars. Legolas felt his heart swell with peace. But his mind quickly clouded, worry and confusion piercing his light mood. He dared not speak of it yet, but something clouded the peace. A fog of darkness swept over the joyful song of the forest and it made no sense to him. Sauron and Saruman had long since been destroyed. What new evil could this omen bring?

"Yet do you feel it?" Legolas glanced sharply at Arwen, her soft words barely reaching his Elven senses. So he was not the only one to feel the strange darkness that rose to the East. It had been plaguing his mind for many days now. They had been passing the Greyflood at Tharbad when he had felt the strange presence erupt in his mind. It had started as a shadow, a mist of confusion and fear at the back of his mind. But as they had neared Rivendell, it had grown, become larger. He was not surprised that Arwen had felt it too, merely unsure of how to approach the subject.

He slowly nodded his head, his eyes once again scanning the darkness. "I have felt it. It is a mist, a dark cloud in the back of my mind. It has grown stronger the closer we come to Rivendell, the closer we get to the Misty Mountains. I know not what to think of it nor how to approach it. There is a constant threat emanating from the mountains before us and I am unsure what it could be. Never have I felt such a presence as this."

"I feel it also, the mist. And I agree. It has only grown stronger the closer we come to our destination. I fear what it could mean for us in these times of peace."

They both turned at the sound of footsteps. Gimli and Aragorn now walked toward them, confusion and wariness written in their expressions. Arwen and Legolas abruptly ceased their discussion, turning stoic faces to the people that approached them. Legolas nodded his head towards the two, greeting them warmly. Both acknowledged the salutation, but remained suspicious as to the topic of the conversation they had obviously interrupted. Both Legolas and Arwen had held worried expressions on their faces. For humans, such an appearance would not be misplaced. But on an elf, it was almost a sure sign that something was amiss.

"What troubles you so, my love?" Aragorn asked, moving to take Arwen into his embrace. She leaned back against him, the slight feeling of fear vanishing in his presence.

"Kai. It is nothing my heart." She smiled, trying to reassure him. But Aragorn had known her for too long. His heart told him that something was bothering her. He glanced at Legolas, but could read nothing from his friend. Whatever they had been discussing, it had been of a serious nature. He decided he would have to wait until he and Arwen were alone to get the details of their conversation from her.

Gimli in turn was staring hard at his friend. The elf always managed to look the most impassive when something important was going on, or when dark thoughts were intruding his thoughts. He, too, came to the conclusion that he would have to wait until the morrow before he could speak to Legolas about his thoughts. "I will retire now my friends. I dare say I will need my rest ere we begin tomorrow. If I must ride that dratted monster that Legolas calls a horse for most of the day, I shall need all the patience and strength I can muster through sleep."

Arwen and Aragorn laughed at his discomfort, while Legolas merely grinned unabashedly. "Mayhap you should walk tomorrow. Although I would not be wrong to suppose that the celebration would be over before you even reached the Ford by such a mode of transportation."

"It would server you well to choose a mount that isn't so independent. One of these days he might throw you off and then you would understand exactly how I feel."

Legolas laughed out loud at this. "My dear Gimli, Arod would never throw me. And I would never abandon him if he did so. He is too fine a steed to give up. And I would miss his companionship."

Gimli grumbled, "Companionship? From a horse? I think that all the bumping and bouncing on the back of that animal has turned your brain into mush. Companionship. HA! You would not have to worry about such damage being done to your person were you to use your own two feet and WALK like a normal person."

"And then I shall be as late as you are to all meetings, my friend. No, I think I will stick with horses. They are much prove a much better means of traveling when doing so for speed."

Gimli harrumphed, muttering something about 'weakling elves' and no 'stamina'. Both Arwen and Legolas laughed, the mood that had permeated the air around them vanishing as abruptly as it had come. For now, the shadow was at a safe distance from them. Their joy and peace could not be interrupted by it at this moment.

Deep within the caverns of the Misty Mountains

The captain of the Uruk-hai, Garnor, knelt before his master. He could not help the trembling that encased his body whenever he was around the being. And just now, he was afraid of his Lord's reaction to the news he had to bear.

"The work progresses more slowly than we had hoped, Sire. There was a cave in and we have had to stop our mining in order to clear it."

The creature seated before him drummed his claws against the stone. The sharp sound filled the silence that followed this announcement. Garnor shuddered, trepidation consuming his limbs.

"I want everything to be in place within three weeks. If it is not, you will pay the consequences." The voice was harsh, grating. It seemed to flow on a river of ice, the cold chilling every fiber of one's being. Garnor hastily nodded his head, bowing low over the floor at his master's feet. "Now, Go. And do not fail me." The dark one watched his captain scurry out the room, his red eyes taking in everything. Soon. The time was coming. And Middle Earth would not stand a chance.

The night was still, the only noise coming from nature's creatures as they passed through their night of song. Legolas let that song flow over him, his face raised to the light from the stars. He was lost in thought, his mind consumed with puzzlement. He had dreamed of her again. The past few weeks, he had been inundated with thoughts of this woman. He knew not what she looked like, for always she was concealed in shadow, but he knew that she was female. Her soft touch, whispered murmurs of delight and pleasure all sang to his heart, heated his blood. It was different each time he thought on her, and yet not so different. She would come to him in the dreaming, shrouded in this white mist, her features obscured by the light that surrounded her. She would whisper incoherent words to him, brush silken hands across his skin.

Legolas shut his eyes, recalling the latest dream he had had of Kaimeledainme. He had come upon her, lost and confused. Yet when she had seen him, her countenance had appeared to lighten considerably. She had reached out a hand to him, beckoning him closer to her. And he had come, closing in on her until they were wrapped in each other's arms. He had kissed those soft lips, letting himself become lost in the shape, texture, taste of her. Hands had roamed freely over each other's bodies, until they were skin against skin. The heat that had radiated between them had almost been unbearable, but so intensely pleasurable at the same time.

Their lips had met and clung, their kisses becoming wild, erotic. He had laid her in the soft grass at their feet, the scent of dew and blossoms on her skin. His hands had moved over flesh as smooth as down. She had the ripe curves of womanhood, yet the innocence of a child. Gasps and moans of delight were murmured from her luscious mouth with every touch, every flick of his tongue against her flesh.

In turn, she had allowed her own hands to roam, touching his shoulders, back, chest, face. Her fingers had traced the fine contours of his cheekbones, running lightly to his lips. He had felt the blood pool in his loins as her fingers ran softly over his top lip, against the lower lip, and back again. Heat had suffused his cheeks, desire had consumed his eyes like wildfire. He had felt her lips against his own, a light caress that moved along his cheekbone to the lobe of his ear. He felt his body begin to harden again as he remembered those sweet lips sucking at the sensitive base. The tongue that had branded fire along the outer rim to trace the delicate tip of his ear had nearly been his undoing. Such heat and passion as he had never known had ignited in his blood, racing through his veins and branding him with his desire to claim her as his own.

He had claimed her mouth then, the kiss brutal in its passion, tender in its ecstasy. Her nails had scraped gently through his hair, causing shivers of delight to race along his spine. Her own gasps had brought a smile to his lips when he had traced his finger around one of her puckered nipples. An exquisite moan had issued from her lips, causing Legolas to loose one of his own. He had prepared to enter her, claim her, take her for his mate, when her whispered words had stilled him, capturing his soul.

"Promise me forever. Never leave me, my love." Desperation and fear had tinged her voice, causing him to seek to reassure her.

"Ten'oio, melamin, ten'oio." He had raised his head, and found himself looking deep into emerald green eyes. His gasp had been of pure pleasure. Never before had he been able to discern her features. But now, this time, he had seen her eyes. They had been the color of the forest after a storm, ripe with heat and passion. Flecks of gold there were in those depths. They had been the most erotic, entrancing eyes he had ever seen in his many years on this Earth.

Then the dream had shattered, and Legolas had woken, shaking with unquenched desire. Now, as he stood in the silent, moon-drenched night, he could remember vividly that last dream, recall the passion and flare of those wondrous eyes. Opening his eyes, he looked towards the heavens, his gaze seeking Earendil, and he made his wish.

"Kaimeledainme. Tula a'amin. Amin vestuva lle ten'oio."

Author's Note: "Ro uuma hanta lle vanim ar'maksa vano, Arod. Ro naa linae naug."-He doesn't appreciate your beauty and soft step, Arod. He is merely a dwarf.

"Earendil sila tiri sina undome."-Earendil shines bright this evening.

"Amin Arwen. Tanya ta uma. Tehta en'estela ar'seere ten'sina palurin."- Lady Arwen. Indeed it does. A sign of hope and peace for this world.

"Ten'oio, melamin, ten'oio."-Forever, my love, forever.

"Kaimeledainme. Tula a'amin. Amin vestuva lle ten'oio."-Dream woman. Come to me. I will promise you forever.


	3. Misunderstanding

**Chapter Three: Misunderstanding**

Meroryan woke suddenly, gasping for breath, sweat drenching her body, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. It took her a moment to realize what had made her wake so abruptly. Then she remembered the dream, and in doing so, blushed with both embarrassment and excitement. She had seen his eyes this time, her anonymous lover. They had been blue, but not a cornflower blue. They had held more gray inside their depths, tinted the color of the sea after a storm. Passion had caused them to deepen to a rich gray-blue. Such amazing eyes for a man.

For the past three days, she had been experiencing these vivid visions every time she allowed herself to fall asleep. They were frightening in their intensity and mystery. It always began differently, but the end result was the same. They would share a passionate embrace, lose each other in sensations of touch and taste, and then, before their union, the dream would dissolve into nothing, and she would wake, shaking and unfulfilled. But this time, she had come closer than ever to being able to see this mysterious dream man. She felt near bursting with excitement at knowing the color of those eyes that held her captive. Perhaps, with time, she would be able to she the rest of his fair features, for she knew he was fair by touch. High cheekbones slashed across a perfectly featured face. A slim upper-lip, crescented by a full lower one, gave kisses of such sweet seduction that Meroryan shuddered with pleasure to think of it. Soft, silky skin covered hard, trim muscles. She had never known a man to be so finely proportioned.

She knew from his reactions and tender touches that he understood her innocence. He would always be so tender and gentle with her. Yet, at times such as this last one, he would lose himself to their passion, guiding her through the whirlwind of their ardor. It was like nothing she had ever hoped to experience. And it both thrilled and terrified her. As always, in this dream, they had spoken very little. There never seemed to be a need to speak with him as such. But in the throes of their passion, she could always hear herself begging him for forever. And he would promise readily in a soft, lilting language that stirred her soul. But she knew that he didn't understand what she asked for. Forever for mortals was as uncomprehensive to them as death was to immortals such as her. And it only saddened her to think that, should she ever chance to meet this miracle man, he would be taken away from her by time itself. And despite all her powers, she could not stop fate.

She shook off the remnants of her latest visualization and let her gaze roam over their small camp. Elsie sat propped against a boulder on the other side of the small fire, her eyes closed heavily, her breathing deep with sweet sleep. Meroryan shook her head, smiling wryly at her friend. They had been wandering now for three days in this forest. They had found refuge during their first day and night here at the edge of a small brook. There, Meroryan had tended to their wounds to the best of her ability. She was not the healer that her sister Deloryen had been, nor had she the knowledge that Nadriel had of herbs and other such important things. She had been trained as a warrior, taught to utilize her power to fight evil in the most basic and skilled ways possible. But they had managed and had survived splendidly to this point.

Their second night had proved the most enlightening to the friends. Howls and snarls had filled the air around the clearing where they had made camp. Elsie had turned frightened eyes on Meroryan.

"What is that?"

Meroryan glanced at her friend, noting the fear filled eyes that held her own. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it doesn't sound exactly happy."

"No, it sounds HUNGRY! What are we going to do?" Elsie had edged her way closer to the fire, seeking both warmth and protection from the meager flames.

"Stay close to the fire. We should probably take turns at staying awake. I'll go first if you want to sleep. I'll wake you up to take a turn in about three hours. Sound ok?"

Elsie nodded, her eyes still gazing restlessly in the direction of the angry sounds. "That's cool. Guess it's the only choice we have eh? That or being eaten alive." Meroryan had smiled at her friends poor attempt at levity. But if it helped to ease her fears, she would comply.

Meroryan pretended to ponder the options. She tilted her head to the side, looking up at the trees in fervent contemplation. "Hmmm. Eaten alive.stay awake all night. Eaten alive.I think I'll take the first one Pat," she said, her voice mimicking that of a contestant on a game show. Corny though it was, it had had the desired effect. Elsie had laughed, breaking the tension caused by their fear.

True to her word, Meroryan had taken that first watch. But before she could wake Elsie to take her turn, the howling had ceased, the normal sounds of the night returning to soothe the pounding of her heart. They had not heard the horrible noises since, but each remained alert as they walked during the day, senses attuned to anything that seemed out of the ordinary in this forest. Though what would be out of the ordinary and how they could tell was beyond Meroryan. Still, better cautious than injured, or worse, dead.

They had found the glade hours before twilight had streaked across the night sky. Elsie had been idly commenting that she had never walked so much in her entire life when she had tripped over and unseen object. Meroryan had rushed to her aid, concern written all over her face. "Are you ok, El?"

Elsie had risen, turning angry eyes to the article that had caused her such an ungraceful fall. "Oh sure. Just totally pissed that I ran into this stupid thing!" She kicked at the large stone protruding out of the earth. "A whole forest floor made completely of dirt, and I have to find the only stone that sticks up!" She looked up at Meroryan, mouth open to ask when they would be making camp, but stopped short at the look on her friend's face. Meroryan had her mouth hanging open uncharacteristically and her eyes were wide with amazement.

"What's the matter with you?" She queried turning to see what had captured her friend's attention so thoroughly. She had gasped in surprise, wonderment filling her gaze. Before them, standing at around fifteen feet above the earth, were three massive statues. Hideous were their visages, yet somehow mystical. They must have been there for many years for the ivy surrounding them had grown tall.

For a moment they had both stood, transfixed. Meroryan had been the first to break the silence, whispering, "Wow." Elsie had nodded her ascent, still gazing in wonderment. By unspoken agreement, they had set up camp in silence, Meroryan starting their fire.

Elsie had told Meroryan she would take that first watch. Yet there she sat, sleeping peacefully through the night. She sighed, smirking lightly in spite of all that had happened to them. She wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the evening anyways. She might as well spend the night thinking on their situation and how best to get them back to where they came from. She had no idea what to do. And that scared her the most. In all her long years, she had never felt so alone or uncertain. Always Nadriel and Relampago had been there to aid her and guide her. Now, here she was, lost and confused in a foreign place.

She got up from where she had been reclined on the ground, walking around the fire, past her sleeping friend. Climbing up to sit on the knee of one of the statues, she stared out into the night, absorbing the light given off by the stars. For the hundredth time since awakening in the forest, she wondered where they were. They had not seen any signs of civilization for these past three days and these forests were unlike any that she had ever known. They spoke to her of newly defeated evil, of strange creatures that haunted the trees and of long forgotten memories. All of it disturbed her thoughts and made her wonder what history was about to unfold before them.

She sighed, her gaze piercing the night. For a moment she hesitated, then Meroryan made a decision. For the first time in over a century, she opened her mind. It was a practice that she had long since abandoned in the modern world with modern technology. But out here, she was reminded of the wilds of her home and such things were necessary. She closed her eyes, gathering all her strength to this one task. Anyone who would have been watching them would have been startled when she reopened them. Her emerald eyes, those that rivaled the deepest verdure of the forest, shone a brilliant green, illuminating even the whites of her eyes. Their luminous quality, challenging the same glow that a cat's eyes would make in the dark, shone with power unleashed. Meroryan had taken great pains to harness such a gift. Nadriel had spent many hours teaching her the simple method of 'seeing'. When her power was focused thusly, she could see beyond the farthest reaches of human sight. As though she were an eagle, she could see many leagues beyond wherever she happened to be. The other benefit was an increase of the senses. Even without opening her mind, Meroryan had a canny sixth sense that had aided her through many battles and times of hardship. But while seeing, she could increase these senses and pick up minute traces of sound as far as such powers would take her own sight.

And so, she searched the forest, letting her gaze touch upon the things that were hidden therein. Turning her body so that she could look behind her, she could just make out the faint edges of a river, or lake. She strained her eyes, trying to make out anything beyond that, but cliffs and stone were all that she saw. Perhaps they would make their way in that direction on the morrow. Maybe they would run into some friendly people. Who knew.

Meroryan abandoned her vigil, letting her head drop to her knees. She had gone too long without practicing her skill and the effort of it now had exhausted her. Sweat sheened her skin, making it shine in the bright night. She would have to rebuild her strength in this new place if she were to keep them alive. The helplessness of their situation came crashing down upon her all at once and tears formed for the first time in over 1300 years at the corners of her eyes. Her whispered plea echoed among the surround pines. "Gaia, give me strength. Let us pass through this forest without harm. Aid us in our survival."

Raising tired eyes to the sky, she sought out the Dragon's Keep. There it shone, dimly, along the horizon. Her voice held sorrow and desperation, vulnerability tainting her normally calm tone. "Oh, Nadriel. Where are you? I need you, my friend. I need you."

The wind stirred around the glenn, rustling the leaves and carrying the scent along its path. From his slumber, Nadriel stirred, lifting his head from where it lay and turning his face into the wind. Relampago shifted his stance as well, restlessness infusing his body with new strength. Nadriel sniffed the air, as though searching for something. And it was then that he heard the plea, and the desperation therein broke his heart.

After a moment, he lifted his own voice to the stars. "Hold on, my child. You must first find your courage. Long has it been since you have had to face such evils as those that now taint this land. I am with you always. But our time has not yet come. You must be strong for a while longer yet. Patience, Meroryan, patience. There are those that will aid you. Fear not."

The sun rose from behind the mountains, refreshing the sky and permeating the landscape with light. Birds began to chirp and sing. Squirrels argued playfully while chipmunks scolded them for their tempers. The trees whispered a silent song of greeting to those that now stirred in the camp below them. Arwen opened the flap of the tent that she shared with her husband and breathed deeply of the crisp morning air. The darkness that had consumed her thoughts last night had vanished, replaced with the bright colors of the dawn.

She turned at a sound behind her, smiling when her husband's strong embrace enfolded her waist. "You shine so brightly this morning, my love," he said, placing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

Arwen smiled, leaning into the touch. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my Lord."

Aragorn laughed, the joyous sound filling her heart. "Then I will try to remember that for future reference. But now I must ask you something of a serious nature. You have much to tell me today, melamin. I would know what you and Legolas were so worried about yestereve."

Arwen turned in the embrace, facing her husband with a look too innocent to be believed. "I know not of which you speak, coramin."

Aragorn shook his head, "You are a poor liar, a'mael. Now tell me, what haunts my dearest friend and my love so?"

Arwen sighed, turning her gaze back to the soft light of the morning. She paused in her thoughts, trying to make some sense of what she was about to say. "We have felt a presence."

Aragorn frowned, "Presence?"

"Aye, my love. A presence. And not a good one at that. It radiates evil intention. It wanders over the land with the darkness, much like a mist, shrouding the light of the stars and the moon, dimming them somewhat. It has grown in strength as we have neared the mountains."

Aragorn turned her back to face him, placing his fingers under her chin and gently raising her eyes to his. "Why did you say nothing of this? Why did you keep such things from me?" he asked her, confusion and hurt hidden behind the depths of his eyes.

Arwen smiled softly, her hand running a caress across his brow. "I only said nothing because I did not wish to trouble you, Estel. You have born so much pain and sorrow that I thought only to spare you some levity at this time. Nothing more. I am sorry of any hurt I may have caused you."

"I am only troubled that you did not share your burden with me. I would have you be free of such things. Lle caelaya il'oio sinta natie en'naikel."

"Lle Iltanaka tanya amin ilsintuva'oio nat'io en'ksha. Amin deluva yassen lle."

Aragorn bowed his head before her, pulling her closer to him for a warm embrace. His heart felt lighter, knowing that she was by his side, with him always. She raised her head from his shoulder, where it had been resting. "Legolas gave me the impression that he had known for some time that things were not well."

Aragorn smiled wryly, his mouth pulling to one side in a grimace-like gesture. "Legolas has never been one to express his fears unless they are based on pure fact. On few occasions has he come to me to tell me his suspicions and even then, gaining facts from him is much akin to pulling teeth."

Arwen smiled knowingly, "It is true. For as long as I have known him, he has always kept his feelings and emotions close to him. Rarely does Legolas let one know when he is worried or troubled. That he even spoke of it last night when I approached him is something of a miracle."

"Perhaps Gimli was right in that he needs an elf maid to ease his worry and lighten his ever pensive mood. I would grant that he has taken fewer lovers to his bed in his many centuries than a common ranger would take in his entire lifetime."

At this, Arwen gazed thoughtfully toward her husband. "Truly my love? And just how many fair ladies have you entranced before we were wed?"

Aragorn had the good graces to flush in embarrassment. "Only one, amin vanya er," he said, holding her close to him. Arwen hummed in a pleased manner, feeling his embarrassment sufficient retribution for his earlier comment. They stood that way for some time, holding each other close, before Aragorn sighed wistfully. "If indeed both of you have felt this evil, we should hurry on to Rivendell with all possible haste. It will not take us long to arrive and I feel that Elrond should know of your concerns."

"And what concerns would those be Aragorn?" asked a gruff voice from his left. He turned as Gimli and Legolas approached the couple.

"And good morrow to you my friend. We slept quite peacefully, thank you for asking. How did you fair last evening?"

Gimli sighed in frustration. "My sleep went as peacefully as it could possibly go with an elf snoring in my ear all through the night."

Legolas snorted, giving Gimli a look that suggested he had awoken wearing his armor all upon his head. "So you did wake yourself with that deafening racket you were making. I was beginning to wonder if you should ever snore loud enough to cause yourself the amount of discomfort you cause to others with your profound, albeit loud, musical abilities."

"Harumph. I should think that anything musical that did not involve either trees or stars would be beyond your comprehension, Master Elf. But enough of that. Aragorn has yet to answer my question. You spoke of concerns. What are those?"

Aragorn glanced at Arwen before turning an unblinking gaze on Legolas. For a moment, all was still. Legolas met his piercing glance without flinching, then nodded his head ever so slightly. Gimli noticed the movement and glared menacingly at the elf. "So you have been keeping secrets from me, Legolas? Is it necessary then for me to fetch my axe?"

Legolas held up his hand, "Peace, mellon. I kept nothing from you that I did not keep from anyone else on this journey. Arwen, in fact, is the only other that I know of that has any inkling as to my suspicions."

"Ah, then the elves have been collaborating behind the mortal's backs eh?"

Arwen laughed, the melodic sound echoing through the camp, causing the heads of those who were about to turn in wonderment. "The elves, as you say Mast Gimli," she began, causing Gimli to flush in embarrassment, "have not been collaborating about anything. I approached Legolas last eve because I felt a presence that grew stronger as we came closer to our destination. Legolas merely confirmed my fears."

Legolas nodded, adding, "It does not radiate from Rivendell specifically, but more from the mountains behind it. I felt it ere we crossed Tharbad. And it has steadily grown. It emits evil from within the mist, yet what it is specifically I cannot say." He shook his head, the golden locks rustling in the morning breeze. "I did not wish to cause any undo alarm based merely on my own feelings."

"Typical elf," Aragorn said, smiling lightly. "No matter. The question now arises as to how we will deal with the problem."

"I believe that we should hold to your earlier counsel, my lord, and make for Rivendell straightway. There we may seek the counsel of my father and Gandalf."

Aragorn nodded his head, gazing pensively across the camp. He caught sight of four small bundles being shifted carefully around the fire his men had built. He smiled, catching the sound of their snores: they were still fast asleep.

"Perhaps we should wake our small friends before we break camp for the day. I wouldn't want to leave them behind."

Legolas and Gimli smiled, taking in the sight of four hobbits in bedrolls. Pippin and Merry were laying side by side, but Merry had his feet in Pippin's face and vise versa. Sam was laying on his back, arms stretched wide, snoring loud enough to put a dwarf to shame. Frodo, laying on his side, was the only one that wasn't emitting the uncouth noise. He lay, facing away from the group that watched them, his breathing even and deep.

It was Legolas' quiet voice that drew them from their reveries, expressing the thoughts that were on all of their minds. "He has been through so much, and yet holds so strong. I do not think even an elf could have shown such courage and determination as he has shown."

Arwen nodded, feeling her heart swell with love for this tiny being that had saved them all. "He carries the weight of it still. I will be both glad and sad when he passes to the West. His heart will finally know peace again, though I will sorely miss his company."

Aragorn turned his eyes away from the huddled mass to gaze upon his wife tenderly. A look of understanding passed between them, a secret bond that only they could ever know being shared. Gimli, who had been the only one to witness the intimate gaze, cleared his suddenly tight throat and grasped onto Legolas' gauntlet clad wrist. "Come, my friend. Let us see if we cannot rouse the four halflings and save them from Imrahil's blade. I have seen his hand wander dangerously close to it ere one of the hobbits snores and I fear what his actions may be should they emit another."

Legolas allowed Gimli to drag him for a few feet before pulling his arm away. He couldn't quite resist, though he did try, the opening to tease his dwarf friend. "Ai, elvellon, I fear that the little ones have begun to sleep too closely to you at night. Alas, they have taken on this annoying habit of yours of snoring. You have been teaching them well, though, I suppose," he continued, ignoring the scorching look he was now receiving, "for they have become almost as loud as you."

He ducked the well placed aim agilely, rolling quickly back onto his feet, his laughter ringing musically through the forest. "One more comment like that, Master Elf, and I will have to fetch my axe. You would do well to heed such a warning if you wish to keep that fair visage you prize so highly intact."

"Ah, Master Gimli you do lighten my spirit. For a dwarf to jest so about besting an elf is almost too humorous for my aching ribs to stand!"

Gimli gave one last warning growl before turning his attention to the task at hand. They now stood just before the hobbits, staring down at them. "Now, the question becomes, how best to wake these four slumberers."

Legolas glanced around, his eyes winking with mischief as he suddenly spotted the exact thing. He left Gimli's side, ignoring the dwarves sound of protest, and walked to the other side of the camp. Aragorn watched the elf with growing curiosity. He and Gimli had been standing there for some time and when Legolas had turned away so suddenly, his interest increased tenfold. He watched him reach down to pick up the buckets that were used to water the horses and raised a tired hand to his face, shaking his head at the antics of one who supposed to be so calm and aloof.

Gimli had been tracking Legolas' progress across the camp with curiosity, wondering what had caused the elf to take off without a word. He watched as he bent down to grab something in his hands. When he turned with the items of his intent clasped firmly in his hands, Gimli smiled devilishly. Perfect, he thought. When Legolas reached him, he took one of the buckets and together they turned to stand over the hobbits.

"Shall we then?" Gimli asked in a gruff voice, humor lighting his eyes.

Legolas appeared to ponder the sleeping forms before him, cocking his head as though in deep thought. His eyes twinkled with an unholy light before her answered Gimli. "I think we shall." And with that, the two friends dumped the icy cold water on the smallest companions in their company. The camp was quickly filled with shrieks and protestations of indignation and outrage. Legolas and Gimli burst into raucous laughter and moved quickly away from the thrashing, sopping figures. Pippin, amazingly enough, was the first of the four to stand and glare menacingly at the figures doubled over with laughter.

"THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!" he bellowed, his tiny form bristling with anger. Sam had stood by this time and was busy helping Frodo to his feet, while Merry made his way to stand beside Pippin. The two folded their arms across their chests and made no pretenses to hide their anger. Arwen hid her smile by turning away from the hobbits, valiantly trying not to laugh out loud. Aragorn, who couldn't suppress the smile that quirked the corners of his mouth upward, stared with calm resignation at the two huddled figures now struggling to remain upright despite their laughter. He chanced a glance at his soldiers, shaking his head slightly at their grins of amusement. They took the hint and turned away from the chaotic scene, finishing their preparations to depart, but a snicker or two could still be heard from their general direction.

Meanwhile, Frodo and Sam had joined Merry and Pippin in glaring at the dwarf and elf. Legolas was trying in vain to compose himself and act as a prince should while Gimli wasn't even making the effort and had fallen to the ground in a less than graceful heap. It was Legolas that finally turned to the hobbits in an attempt to assuage their anger. "Peace, good friends. We meant no offense, truly. We were simply worried that you would oversleep our time of departure and we would be forced to leave you behind."

"And you couldn't think of any other way to awaken us?" asked Merry, highly sarcastic.

"Nay, my friends. I fear any other means by which we might have tried to rouse you would have been too dim to hear amongst your heavy snores. You have taken on Gimli's annoying habit."

Sam wrinkled his brow, watching cross-eyed as a water droplet ran down his nose to hang there precariously. "That's not fair Mister Legolas. We're hobbits and for a certainty there's no way we could possibly be louder than a dwarf." He immediately clapped his hands over his mouth, staring with wide-eyed horror at Gimli. Legolas fell to his knees, unable to stifle the laughter that consumed him. Even Aragorn allowed himself to burst into great guffaws. The whole camp was soon roaring with laughter at the expense of one dwarf.

Gimli stood silently, his face as red as a tomato. "Ha, Ha, Ha. Let's everyone laugh at the dwarf."

"T-thank y-y-you," gasped Merry. "I t-think I w-w-will."

It took a moment for calm to descend once more upon the camp. Sam immediately ran up to Gimli, stuttering apologies to him left and right. The others dispersed quickly enough, setting to breaking camp with all haste. Legolas was still chuckling quietly, moving towards where the horses had been tethered for the night. Arod was there, stamping his feet in restless indignation. He walked over, as far as the rope would allow, and stretched his neck out to his master.

Legolas smiled at the horse's antics, reaching out his hand to stroke the soft muzzle. "Arod, mani lle umien?" The horse whuffed gently at Legolas' hair, sending the silken strands flying. He continued to snuffle, butting his muzzle against Legolas' tunic, searching. The elf laughed, smiling wistfully. "I am sorry, mellon. I have nothing to give you at this moment." Arod butted him in the chest forcefully, snorting as though saying, how could you forget? Legolas simply laughed, saying, "I will find you an apple before we head out." He suddenly turned serious, his worry coming up to overwhelm his light mood. "Be ready, Arauka Er. I fear we may have need of your strength and speed ere this journey ends." Arod nickered quietly, taking in his master's pensive mood. In the forest, the trees whispered softly in the breeze.

Elsie woke to the sounds of birds chirping in her ear. And it was all she could do not to throw a stone at them and tell them to shut up. She could vaguely hear Mer humming to herself somewhere over to the left, but all that mattered to her right at this point was more sleep for her aching body. This was the third night in a row that she had had to sleep on the cold, hard ground, and, by GOD, this was the last! She would press Mer to keep walking until they found some sign of civilization or so help her she was going to murder her on the spot.

With her new resolve to find a warm bed before the evening had approached, she slowly opened her eyes, sitting up and rubbing the sleep that still clung to them away. Meroryan glanced up from her crouched position by the fire. "Good morning, Scrat. Sleep well did we?"

"Good morning yourself, Prat. And don't we look chipper this day," she said, heavy sarcasm flowing into her voice.

Meroryan struggled not to laugh at her friend. Her blond hair was sticking out in every direction, eyes still heavy lidded with sleep, and there was grass and leaves sticking to certain parts of her body like glue. But she didn't think it prudent to comment on her friend's state of being at present so she continued burying the fire. "I couldn't sleep very well last night, so I didn't bother trying. I've been up for a long time which would explain why I seem to have a greater awareness of how bright the sun is shining and the promise that flows with it."

Elsie chose to ignore the bantering tone in her friend's voice, focusing instead on the part about her not sleeping. She sat up straighter, her eyes growing increasingly worried. "What do you mean by 'couldn't sleep'? Do you mean you slept for a little while then were awake? Or did you not sleep at all?"

Meroryan sighed, not really wishing to answer that question. "I slept for a little while." She noted Elsie's worried expression and sought to assuage her fear. "Calm yourself. I slept long enough."

"But your still wounded pretty badly," Elsie said, protesting. "Don't think I didn't see you clutching your side yesterday as we walked. And you limp slightly, too. Sometimes, when I listen hard enough, I can even hear you catch your breath and wince. I know you're in a lot of pain so DON'T try and hide it from me." With every sentence, Elsie had been growing more and more perturbed at her friend. She knew that Meroryan didn't think she saw more. But she had noticed as they walked that her friend had been growing more and more shallow in her breathing. Sweat had been coating her face and arms and it worried Elsie to no end.

"I know that you've been staying up at night ever since we heard those things. But you have got to rest. You're hurt far worse than I am and if we need to, we can slow down and rest more often."

Meroryan smiled sadly, her heart going out to Elsie. She knew what it cost her to say those words, knew that she longed for them to find people and shelter as soon as possible. "I will not slow us down, my friend. The wounds aren't bad and I promise to rest as soon as we reach a suitable location where we are safe to do so."

"You had better," she grumbled, "or else I'll be tying you to the nearest bed!"

Meroryan let a full-throated laugh burst forth after that comment. The sweet sound echoed through the trees. It felt so good to be able to laugh in at a time like this. When all else seemed hopeless and felt futile. Elsie grinned back, feeling merrier than she had since waking up with dwarves pounding anvils in her head.

"I think we had better get moving, you and I. The sooner we start out, the sooner we can find that civilization that you so crave to find."

Elsie jumped to her feet, a dull ache settling with the harsh movement. She winced marginally, grateful that Meroryan had been otherwise occupied so that she missed it. She had enough to worry about without trying to help Elsie out and Elsie didn't want to make it worse. With the fire carefully extinguished, Meroryan turned to the East, toward the river she had seen flowing the night before.

"I think we should head that way," she told Elsie, pointing in that general direction. "We came in last night by that big fella over there. If we keep heading in one direction, we're bound to run into someone sometime soon."

Elsie glanced from the trail behind them, to the trail in front. Her head tilted, she weighed their options and had to agree with Meroryan's idea. She nodded her assent, meandering over to where Mer stood, waiting patiently for her to make the decision. "Alright. We'll go your way. But if we don't reach some sort of town or village by nightfall, so help me Mer."

"Calm down," she said, laughing. "I promise. If we don't reach a city by tonight, you can personally use me as a pad and pillow. Or throw me in the nearest lake or whatever."

"Deal." Elsie sighed heavily, stretching her muscles in her legs and preparing herself mentally for another day of long walking. "Let's go before my feet change their mind and we end up stuck here for the rest of our existence."

They shared a laugh, passing between towering pines and elms, exiting the glade. Behind them, the glade and forest grew suddenly quiet. Darkness began to shroud the western edges of the clearing. And the eyes that tracked the progress of the two friends, grew menacing and dark.

The hobbits were still feeling quite antagonistic towards a certain dwarf and elf as the company departed once more for Rivendell. Aragorn had already taken the instigators aside and spoken quietly with them, but neither appeared too contrite for their actions. A smirk still played around Gimli's mouth as they headed towards their mounts.

He glanced over at the halflings, a grin splitting his features at the glares and indignant looks that graced their normally cheerful faces. "Perhaps next time you won't be so tempted to sleep in whilst everyone else is making ready to leave, my little friends."

Frodo and Sam shared a look before huffing off to their ponies, while Merry and Pippin remained, each glaring forcefully at the dwarf. "If I were you, I would be careful from here on out. You never know when retribution will stare you in the face," Merry said threateningly.

Gimli smiled, ceding the conversation to the hobbits and turned to where Legolas stood by the stallion. He groaned inwardly, not relishing the fact that he would have to spend another morning and the better part of the afternoon on the back of that beast that the elf called a horse. "I do hope you told that monster that you call your mount to tread more softly this day, Legolas."

Legolas turned his head, his lips curved slightly upward in a parody of a smile. "He will tread as softly as he has always tread, Gimli. Perhaps you should ride with one of the knights of Gondor, so that you may compare stallions and find a favorite one."

The dwarf huffed, "I need not ride a different horse to know that all of them are not as good a travel as one's own feet."

Aragorn laughed, having come up behind them on his own mount and hearing the exchange. "I fear that you would not make the festivities in time, my friend should you walk the rest of the way to Rivendell. Perhaps if you had the longer stride of the elves, or even of human men, you would be permitted to walk. But in this instant, it would serve you better to ride."

The dwarf simply grimaced at the King and went to Legolas so that he could help him mount. Swinging up in front of him, the elf nudged Arod gently, moving him to the front of the line next to Arwen and Aragorn. In no time, Aragorn had given the signal to ride out. The company moved forward, each person eager to reach the final destination of food, warmth, and soft beds that awaited them at Rivendell.

The peace of the forest surrounded Legolas as they rode through the Trollshaws. The decided leisure of their travel made it easy for Legolas to lose himself in the haunting beauty of the forest. Illuvatar's song rang among the trees. Peace, hope, harmony; all united and intertwined in the melody that assaulted his senses. It was like being born anew after a storm of darkness.

And among such a sweet song, he could still feel the mist at its edge. Legolas frowned, apprehension furrowing his brow. With the dawn, it had reduced in power considerably, but was still there, ever-present among the tranquility that many had fought so hard for against the shadow that Sauron had cast over their world. He did not understand from whence it came. Certainly the orcs still wandered the land, but many had resorted to burrowing deep within the caverns of the Misty Mountains. The danger should be over. But this new threat that he felt worried him more than he had let on in his counsel this morning with Aragorn, Arwen, and Gimli. It seemed darker than anything he had ever felt with Sauron. It had taken everything the free people had possessed to defeat the Dark Lord. Should this new danger prove a greater evil than that of Sauron, he was anxious that they might not be able to rise above it.

It was Gimli that roused him from his ominous thoughts. The dwarf had been trying to gain his attention for several minutes and had finally resorted to whacking the elf none too gently on the shoulder while calling his name quite loudly in his sensitive ear. Legolas looked over his shoulder, chagrined at having been caught unaware. "My apologies, friend. I was lost in my thoughts."

"Mmm." The dwarf eyes the elf carefully, knowing that whatever was on his mind would not be shared with him unless he prodded his friend sufficiently. "Would those thoughts have anything to do with what we discussed this morning, Legolas?"

Aragorn and Arwen heard this and slowed their mounts to see what Legolas' reply would be. "It there aught worrying you that I should be aware of friend, other than the concerns that we spoke of earlier?" Aragorn asked.

Legolas shook his head. "It is as I said before, mellon. I know not what worries me specifically, nor do I know how to express such feelings without worrying you unnecessarily."

Aragorn was about to reply, but a small voice interrupted his thoughts. "What are these concerns of which you speak?"

In their preoccupation with their topic of conversation, the four had failed to notice that the hobbits had ridden closer to them and had overheard the exchange. It was Frodo who had asked the question and Arwen sought to assuage his fear. "It is nothing, friend Frodo. Legolas and I have felt a presence is all."

"What kind of presence?" Pippin asked, him being the most curious of the four.

Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, and Arwen all exchanged a look, before Legolas answered him. "We are not yet sure as to what the presence is or what it means. But both Arwen and I have felt that it brings ill-intent with it."

At this news, the hobbits each wore uneasy expressions. "Ill-intent? What kind of ill-intent?" Sam asked, concern and unease covering his features.

"We do not know as of yet, Samwise," replied Aragorn. "What we have told you is everything that we know for a certainty, and even then, we are uncertain if our guesses are correct or not."

"Well, that doesn't do us much good, now does it." Merry piped in, his head still whirling with what he had been told.

"It.it isn't,.do you think." Frodo's quiet voice caused all to glance at him. He had bowed his head, his face slightly pale and a deep sorrow radiating from him.

Arwen smiled in understanding, compassion and love for the hobbit making her voice soft and comforting. "No, Frodo. It is not Sauron. You will not have to bear the burden this time."

All noticed both the relieved look that crossed his features and the way that Sam moved closer to his side. Once again, Aragorn was glad that Sam was so close to Frodo. It made it all the easier for him for the remainder of his time in Middle Earth.

"So what exactly do you suppose it if?" Merry asked.

Legolas shook his head, lifting his eyes to search the forest. "I am not sure, little one. All that I am certain of is that this mist that hovers on the edges of the mountains bears evil." He looked regretfully at the tiny men who trotted their ponies beside their mounts. It was Araforn, however, who spoke next, his mind focused on easy the hobbits anxiety. "I know that this does not give you much assurance, Meriadoc. But know this, that we will always be there to protect you, and we will never give up on you, no matter what." All nodded their assent quickly, the truth of Aragorn's words echoed in the minds and hearts of every member that had ridden with them in times of hardship before.

Their attention returned to the ride ahead, the sun glimmering through the leaf tops above them. Gimli, who was not faring very well after riding so long, shifted uncomfortably in his seat behind Legolas. The elf was quick to notice, and turned his head to look over his shoulder at the dwarf. "How are you faring, Mast Gimli?" he asked, a twinkle of merriment in his eyes at the start of what he hoped would be an engaging battle of wits.

"I am faring just fine, Legolas, and thank you for asking. I merely wish that this beast would cease his strutting. The walk is giving me quite a headache. Yet," he said, sighing heavily, "I suppose it cannot be helped either. With you as his master, he was bound to pick up some of your horrid habits sooner or later."

"Truly? I was unaware that walking uprightly was a thing to be admonished. I suppose for one so stunted, though, that such a feat would seem so impossible for him to accomplish that he would envy others their dignified position."

"Stunted!" Gimli cried, outraged. "The only thing that is stunted in this company is your intellect, Master Elf. It appears that your mind has become so slow, that you have failed to notice the superior being that rides with you!"

"Superior!" Legolas said, almost choking on his held in laughter. "What an absurd word for a dwarf to use. I did not know that the dwarvish vocabulary consisted of such a word. You worry so much about your gems and stones, I didn't realize that you even noticed that the Eldar existed anymore! 'Tis glad I am thought that you have finally succumb and recognized how truly blessed you are to have the Eldar in your presence."

"Blessed!" Gimli harrumphed. Legolas could practically feel the heat from his glare warming his back. "You should be the one thanking your stars for my company on this journey. Rare is it that the Elves are given the opportunity to sit with members of my race, and so they should welcome any and all chances to learn from such people as we!"

"Learn from the dwarves? My, my, Gimli. I had not realized that the Glittering Caves had affected your mind in this way." He reached a slender hand around his back and felt Gimli's forehead. "Well it appears as though you have no fever, but the lack of light combined with all the pounding that must constantly go on inside your head has obviously turned your brain to mush!"

Gimli was about to make a sarcastic comment of his own when suddenly Legolas stiffened before him. "What is it friend?" he asked, dropping all attempts at banter and letting his concern for Legolas show in his voice. The last time he had seen such an expression was during their quest to destroy the ring.

Aragorn had halted his horse after he realized that Legolas was no longer following him. He turned, but the question he had been about to ask died instantly on his lips. Legolas was staring out into the forest, his eyes intent, his body rigid and poised for action. Arwen came up beside him, softly calling Legolas' name. There was no response. Casting an anxious glance at his wife, Aragorn moved beside the elf, Arwen joining him not a second later. The hobbits were just behind Arod, each wearing an expression of both concern and curiosity. What had made the elf stop so suddenly and why would he not respond to any of them. Arod had begun to dance nervously beneath Legolas and Gimli, wondering why they had stopped moving.

Gimli shook his friend's shoulder, all the while calling his name. Still, Legolas did not respond, his attention riveted on the trees beyond. Aragorn reached out a hand, squeezing his shoulder hard in an attempt to bring him out of whatever trance this was that he was in.Then, quicker than the eye could see, he had notched an arrow and aimed it at the woods to their left. The jumped, unprepared for such a movement, but his hiss answered all their questions. "Yrch!" he said, shifting to his native language without realizing it. Instantly, all in the company drew their weapons, Frodo's own Sting glowing bright blue in the light.

"Prepare yourselves for an attack!" Aragorn shouted to the guards, who were waiting restlessly to see why they had stopped so suddenly, immediately shifting into the warrior that all knew from the War. "Spread out, but do not become separated! Protect the hobbits!" He looked to his right, meeting Arwen's eyes. She had drawn her own Elvish blade, moving her mount next to his. "Be careful, melamin," he told her.

"And you as well, love." They shared a look filled with love before turning to face the evil beings that were close enough now for the entire company to hear. The rumblings and rustling of the bushes and trees suggested a relatively small group. Nevertheless, each member held their ground as the noise came closer and closer to where they were taking their stand. Suddenly, a scream of terror pierced the air, shrieks of rage following the haunting sound. Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other, each mirroring the other's own thoughts in his eyes. That had not been the scream of an animal. But of a human.

"We've been walking for hours and still no end to this menagerie!" Elsie said, plopping down on a boulder to rub her aching feet. Meroryan stopped, looking over her shoulder in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, friend. But we have to keep going. I get the feeling that we're closer to civilization than we had hoped we'd be by this time." And indeed it was true. Meroryan had been feeling more and more at peace the further they had walked toward what she now had confirmed was a river. There was a sense of such joy and wonderment emanating from the area ahead of them that it made Meroryan hurry all the more in order to reach the place. She had an uneasy feeling about the trees behind her. They had suddenly grown dark and shadowed, as though something unpleasant now lurked there, just out of her senses. The sooner that they reached the haven ahead of them, the better she would feel.

"Ya think so, eh?" Elsie said, looking up from her task. "Well," she sighed, rising, "I guess we better head out. You've haven't been wrong so far and I'd hate to waste what little luck we've acquired on this unexpected Crocodile Hunter expedition we've been on for the past three and a half days."

Meroryan laughed, feeling lighter than she had since arriving. "True enough. Come then. Let's head out. We-." All thoughts and speech fled as panic rushed through her system. The haunting feeling that she had felt earlier had returned, and whatever was pursuing them was close by. Close enough that she could hear the breathing and smell the foul stench of the creatures. Warnings bells signaled in her head and instinct took over. She crouched low, her arms moving to balance herself on the balls of her feet.

"What's the matter?" Elsie asked her, terror making her voice quake. She had been astonished when Meroryan had suddenly halted, going rigid with tension and staring intensely at the forest just behind her. But before she could ask her again what was wrong, Meroryan had jumped forward, grabbing her arm painfully and breaking into a run the way they had been headed from the beginning, dragging Elsie in her wake. "Ow! Mer! You're hurting me!"

Meroryan kept running, opening herself to try and sense what could possibly be behind them. She felt it, drawing closer to them even as they ran in the opposite direction. She hissed under her breath, the pain in her ribs and knee returning with a vengeance. "Just keep running, Elsie. Something is wrong. I can feel it!"

Elsie struggled to keep up with the pace that her best friend was setting, her head starting to ache terribly as she quickly became breathless from exertion. "What's wrong!"

"Just keep going!" Meroryan replied, urgency and something else in her voice that made goosebumps rise on Elsie's skin. And they ran. She could hear what had caused Meroryan's panic now. Harsh cries and screams echoed in the trees directly behind them and just to either side of where they ran. Footsteps crunched through the underbrush. Whatever was chasing them, it was either huge, or there were a lot of them.

Meroryan kept a tight hold on Elsie, not wanting to leave her behind for those creatures to get a hold of. She had lost too many people in her life. She would not let her friend die. At a sound in front of them, Meroryan screeched to a halt. If it were possible, the creatures had managed to somehow get in front of them, cutting off their escape. They were surrounded now, with nowhere to run. And yet she still held hope. For beyond the evil and ever growing danger that she felt around them, there was another presence further beyond, among the trees just in front of them. It was a soft, glowing presence, one that carried with it hope and peace and strength. If she could get them to whatever it was, they might just stand a chance.

Meroryan let go of Elsie's arm, once more resuming her defensive crouch. She backed them up, waiting until she felt Elsie stop, her back against a tree. She could better protect her this way, keeping her safe from both the front and back. "Listen to me Elsie, we only have a minute before those things are going to show themselves." They could hear the snarling and growling growing closer and closer. "I need you to do everything that I tell you ok? When I tell you to run, I want you to do it. Run as fast as you can, as hard as you can. Don't stop, don't look back. Do you understand me?"

Elsie was violently shaking her head, though Meroryan couldn't see it, her focus and eyes solely on the woods beyond. "No! No, I won't do that! I'm not going to leave you here with whatever comes out of those trees!"

"Stop it! Silence! You have to do this. You have to trust me! Please trust me, my friend. There are people out there who will help you. I can take care of myself, as you well know. I'm not a defenseless child. Run in the direction I push you and keep running. When you get to them, tell them where I am. I'll hold on as long as I can and I promise," she turned then, looking her friend in the eye, brown meeting green, "I promise you I will not leave you!"

Elsie nodded, opening her mouth to reply, but abruptly shut it, her eyes widening as she looked at the trees. Meroryan turned quickly, her own gasp filling the air. The monsters had stepped from the pines, moving slowly and cautiously toward the two women. They were horrible to behold. Their faces were distorted, horribly deformed, their skin black and harsh looking. They wore their hair long and tangled, greasy looking and pulled back into knots. Their bodies were thick, covered with battle armor and they carried fierce looking weapons in their brutal looking hands. They stopped in a semi-circle around the women, slowly tightening it as they moved forward. Meroryan counted quickly, estimating there to be around thirty of these foul looking creatures. She would only have a moment to distract them and get Elsie out of here before she would be surrounded again.

"Listen Elsie," she hissed under her breath, not daring for these things to hear her lest they speak her language. "I'm going to distract them, but we'll only have a few seconds. You're going to take off through those trees right in front of us. Understand?"

Elsie squeezed her hand to tell her she understood. Meroryan tensed herself, readying her muscles for what she knew was to come. "On my mark.stay close behind me. Ready, .GO!" she shouted, pulling them both toward the demonic beasts. They were taken by surprise by so bold a move from one seeming so defenseless. Meroryan lashed out at the nearest beast, kicking him fiercely in the face and knocking him on his back. She twisted her arm, throwing Elsie in the direction of the opening she had created. "RUN!"

She didn't look to see if her friend had obeyed, knowing that she would. Once she gave her word she never went back on it. But her attention was drawn back to the battle at hand when an arm came too close to her face for comfort. She turned then, using all of her skill to keep herself alive so that she wouldn't be the first one in their friendship to break her word.

Elsie ran, hearing the sound of feet running after her. They were following her! She ran harder, losing the heaver sound of the skirmish behind her along with Mer. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of her best friend in the middle of such danger, but she forced herself to run harder and faster than she ever had in her life. She could feel her strength ebbing away and fought with all her might to keep her burning legs and lungs going.

A noise right behind her and a sudden pain in her shoulder caused Elsie to scream in fear, jerking her body away from the pain. But it wouldn't let up. She felt something stuck in the wound, pain radiating from it and spreading quickly throughout her body. But on she ran. She could see a clearing in front of her, a trail just beyond that. And the sound of horses and of people shouting filled her ears. She had never been so glad to hear such things in her entire life. She was almost there, just a few more steps. And then the creature grabbed her, keeping a tight hold of her shoulder, shredding her flesh in the process and pulling her backwards. The clearing was right before her eyes and she saw many men on horseback. Although there was something strange about the people before her, she paid no heed to it, crying out for help even as she fell into crushing arms against a hard body that gripped her ribs too tightly.

There was a shout in front of her, and then the grip lessened, letting her body drop to the earth with pain. She looked up, just in time to see several men rushing to her aid, killing the foul things that were still behind her. She could barely hear their death cries as she drifted slowly, giving her body up to the pain. A man knelt quickly by her side, his arms going around her comfortingly. There was a abrupt, ripping pain in her shoulder once again as whatever that had been caught in it was pulled free. Then she was being laid on her back, her eyes locking with that of the man before her. She had to tell him about Meroryan.

Aragorn had been shocked to see the woman come into their view beyond the trees. She was shorter than most he met, with blond hair, and her distress and pain was evidence enough to prove to him that she was no enemy. He had moved forward to kill the Uruk-hai holding her when an elvish arrow had planted itself right between the eyes. The rest of the foul creatures had been already been disposed of by the time he knelt beside the girl. Arwen was on her knees next to him, quickly assessing the wounds. She pulled out the arrow that had caused her to scream earlier, grimacing over the low moan that the girl let out.

They laid her on the grass, the others slowly making their way over to see what was happening. Aragorn took off his cloak, laying it over her prone form, when her eyes caught his. Then she spoke.

"Please," she started, her voice a breathy whisper as she slowly lost consciousness and gave into the pain. "Please, you have to save her."

Aragorn looked up at Legolas, who stood just above him. Their confusion showed plainly on their faces. Arwen turned the woman's face towards her and asked, "Who? Who is it that you speak of?"

"Mer.you have to save her. She made me run.I.had to leave her.get help.help her.they'll k-kill her.please." she made to rise, anxiety clear in her brown eyes. Aragorn pushed her back down, not wanting her to injure herself further.

"Hush, now. We will find her and bring her back. Just rest." Turning to Arwen, he said, "Stay with her. Imrahil, stay here with ten of your men and the hobbits. The rest of us will go to find the other one. Hurry! The Uruk-hai will not be gentle with her!"

Elsie watched as some of the men took off in the direction from which she had come, each holding their weapons in front of them to ward off any attacks. Mer was right, she thought. We'll be ok now. Please God, she prayed as she lost herself to the darkness swimming in her mind, let her be alive. Keep her safe for me. And then she blacked out, the last thing she saw being the angel by her side. Perhaps she would die. Then, there was no more.

Author's Note:

"Melamin"-My love

"Coramin"-My heart

"A'mael"-Beloved

"Lle caelaya il'oio sinta natie en'naikel."-You should not ever know things of pain.

"Lle iltanaka tanya amin ilsintuva'oio nat'io en'ksha. Amin deluva yassen lle."-You cannot be sure that I will never know things of evil. I would share your worry.

"Mellon"-Friend

"Elvellon"-Elf Friend

"Arauka Er"-Swift One


	4. Rescue

**Chapter Four: Rescue**

Meroryan fought bravely, parrying, thrusting, dodging blow after blow. She had noticed the group that broke off to follow Elsie and she prayed that she would make it to the riders safely. Her thoughts soon became consumed with the skirmish at hand as four of the beasts attacked her at once. Everything that Nadriel and Galandrie had taught her came flooding back, filling her senses and causing adrenaline to surge through her veins. Abruptly, she went on the offensive. She rushed one of the foul creatures, grabbing the arm that he had swung at her. She twisted the wrist, listening the crunching of bones as she snapped it in two. The thing shrieked, dropping the sword-like weapon that it had been about to thrust into her abdomen. She grabbed it quickly, turning around to match stroke for stroke the blows of another that had come up behind her.

Armed now, she became like the wind, winding in and out of those who would harm her, killing those that came too close and severely wounding the rest that came to rush her. It soon became evident, however, that she would not be the victor in the battle this day. For every one that she killed, two took its place. They swarmed from around the trees, from behind the rocks, from the very Earth itself. She fought, doing all that she could to keep them at bay.

And then she heard something that curdled her blood. Elsie, screaming in terror and pain. And that was all it took. Meroryan broke, her heart crushing with grief, the thought of her friend in the clutches of these monsters. She became a wild thing, not caring for the hurt that they brought upon her, barely noticing the slash that appeared on her left arm, nor the knife that buried itself deep into her shoulder. All she could feel was rage, all she knew was pain of her soul. She had lost so many dear to her, and now Elsie. Memories came flooding back to her; her father on the floor, her mother, raped and bleeding, dead next to her tapestries, her sisters lying in their own blood. Tears flowed openly down her cheeks, unheeded by the grief stricken woman who shed them. Speed became her ally, rage, her companion. Her body and clothes were covered by a layer of black slime, the blood of these evil things. One by one, the foul ones fell beneath her attack, 'til only a few remained.

They stood on the other side of her, watching her warily, not knowing what to think of this puny woman who had defeated so many of them. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they were dead, those who had remained standing falling underneath the arrows that pierced their hearts. Meroryan turned slightly, watching as several men, some very odd in appearance, rushed into the glade, weapons drawn and ready to battle. But she couldn't find it in her to care, nor to thank them for the help that they had given her. Her strength failed her abruptly, the lack of it sending her to her knees. She barely registered the astonished faces of those who were now filling the clearing, taking in the sight of the dead bodies littering the ground, the lone woman now crumpled in their midst. She didn't want to think about anything, only to rest, to find peace in oblivion.

Legolas could not believe what he saw. Uruk-hai, at least thirty in number, dead, their bodies cleaved. His eyes came to rest on the woman. She knelt, the weapon of the Uruk-hai now grasped limply in her hand. Tears streaked her cheeks, her translucent skin so pale in the light. One woman, standing alone, against as many Uruk-hai as five men would have had to stand against to defeat. So delicate in appearance, she had defeated these beasts seemingly quickly, for it had not taken them that long to reach her side after the mysterious appearance of her friend. The elf had trouble overcoming his shock.

Gimli came to stand beside him, stopping as he watched the woman carefully. She did not move, simply knelt there, eyes shut, face contorted in pain. Nothing stirred for a time in that clearing. Gimli noticed that every single one of them, yes, even the elf, he noted, had the same exact expression on their face. Total shock and incomprehension. He himself had a difficult time grasping the truth of what lay before him. They had slain fifteen beasts that had followed the woman's friend. And here she knelt, among more than forty Uruk-hai soldiers, strong and trained warriors, and had managed to kill every one of them save the few that Legolas and two of the Knights of Gondor had taken down with arrows. He couldn't help the feeling of awe and amazement that crept into his heart toward this woman. One look at her and you would think she would fall easily, prey for the fallen Dark Lord's minions. The dwarf shook his head, telling himself not to be so foolish. They knew nothing about the two females, and it would not do to let their guards down even against women. To his right, he saw Aragorn motioning to his men.

"Head back to the main group. We will join you soon and make haste to Rivendell from there." The Knights bowed to their King, turning and leaving just him, Gimli, and Legolas alone with the girl.

She hadn't moved, not caring who stood behind her anymore. She wanted to feel nothing. The physical pain from her wounds were minor in comparison to the pain she felt in her heart. Perhaps it would be better to never wake up, to let the darkness before her claim her. She felt herself start to fall forward, only for her progression to be stopped by strong hands on her shoulders. They laid her on the ground, gentle, tender in their movements. She felt a moment of searing pain come from her shoulder as something was wrenched from it. The wound throbbed, pain floating through her body, spreading through her veins. The hands were everywhere at once; her forehead, her neck, her arms. She sighed, leaning into the touch, thinking that it seemed so familiar somehow. The feel of such hands against her skin caused shivers to run through her body. And then the blackness floated up before her, taking her conscious.

Legolas noticed the woman's abrupt movement forward and rushed to catch her ere she fell. Her head lolled lifelessly, her eyes never opening. Gimli and Aragorn moved by his side as he laid her down, a moan of pain drifting from her lips. While Aragorn knelt on her other side, Legolas inspected the woman. Among the bumps and bruises, he noted only two major wounds. The slash on her arm was deep, the blood flowing freely the stain the earth below her. The other injury was on her left shoulder. A knife of the Uruk- hai lay buried deep in her soft flesh. Aragorn grasped the handle, pulling the blade free. Again, the woman moaned in pain, but made no move to open her eyes or move from her position. Legolas ran his hands carefully over her body, checking for any other injuries that might have escaped their notice. She was soft to touch, even with the injuries and orc blood that marred her skin. When he found no other serious wounds, he looked up at Aragorn, voicing his thoughts for the first time since sprinting to her aid.

"She carries no other wounds, but her skin burns with fever and is icy to touch." Aragorn nodded, his own worry showing clearly on his face. She would not open her eyes and the wounds on her arm and in her shoulder were extensive. Her skin was clammy, pale in comparison to even Legolas' own fair skin. An unnatural pale, that of one not far from death. He tore a strip of cloth from his tunic and with Gimli's aid, bound her arm tightly to stop the flow of blood while Legolas took some to tie against the wound where the poisoned blade had pierced her shoulder to the bone.

"We must get both of them to Rivendell and quickly!" the King said, his voice filled with urgency.

Legolas only nodded, not taking his gaze off of the prone form lying before them. He lifted her as gently as possible in his arms, whistling for Arod to come to him. "I will ride ahead with her to Lord Elrond, for she carries the greater wounds of the two. Arod is swift and she needs aid immediately." Both Gimli and Aragorn nodded, agreeing with Legolas' assessment.

"Worry not about me, friend. I'm sure Imrahil will not mind me riding with him for the short ways we have left to ride."

"Thank you, mellon," Legolas said, nodding. He glanced at Aragorn, nodding at the concern and plea in his eyes. "Lye karnuva ta e'luume'," he told him, nodding in reassurance to the King. Arod galloped through the trees then, standing silently beside his master, waiting for whatever he would command. Legolas handed the unconscious girl to Aragorn, mounting quickly and taking the woman from him, placing her gently in front of him.

"Noro lim, Arod. Noro path, noro bell." Arod leaped forward, quickly disappearing into the trees, heading toward Rivendell and the Ford.

Aragorn watched Legolas ride away, the woman tucked gently next to him to protect her from any stray branches or leaves. He turned, catching Gimli watching the spot where they had gone with worry in his eyes. He placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "He will get them there safely, Gimli. Have no fear of that."

Gimli sighed, turning back toward the place where they had left Arwen and the hobbits, walking next to Aragorn. "I know, my friend. But I cannot help but feel uncertain with what just occurred. We know nothing about these women nor where they come from. I pray to the Valar that they will get past the Ford and into the safety of Rivendell without further incident from more of these foul creatures."

Aragorn nodded, his eyes revealing his own worry and concern over the Uruk- hai being so close to Rivendell in these times of peace. "I do not know what has brought them so close. Why would they attack people when they are so near an Elven stronghold."

"Mmm. It is odd indeed, Aragorn. I have never known them to be so brave. What a contradictory word to use for an orc," the dwarf said, shaking his head. "But they normally avoid such places where the elves are so numerous. What do you think has caused them to be so bold this time?"

Aragorn frowned, shaking his head slightly. "I'm not sure, Gimli. But it might have something to do with the presence that Arwen and Legolas have felt. We will ride for Rivendell ourselves, not sparing the horses. I will feel better once we are beyond the borders of Imladris."

They had reached the spot where their horses were waiting. Arwen had settled the other unconscious woman with Rangor, one of the Guards of Gondor. She turned at Aragorn and Gimli's approach. Running to her husband, she embraced him, feeling relief flood through her as he returned it, his strong arms encircling her waist to hold her closely for a few moments. She pulled away, searching his face for any sign of pain or injury. "Are you well, my love?"

"I am. By the time we had arrived in the clearing where they had attacked them, the battle was nearly over. Legolas and the other knights finished the remaining few, but the woman was already wounded very badly. Legolas took her to Rivendell on Arod, hoping to save her before the poison in her shoulder should do its work too well."

Arwen stared at him in shock, wondering how a woman could stay the attack of the Uruk-hai so efficiently. Sensing her question, Aragorn spoke. "There will be time for explanations later. But now, we must ride to Rivendell ourselves. I know not how many more of the enemy lie beyond our sight and I would reach your father's halls with all possible haste." He glanced quickly at the woman Rangor held. "We must get her to a healer as well. The arrow was not poisoned, but infection might set in and could be just as dangerous."

Arwen nodded, holding her tongue and rushing to her mare. Aragorn in turn, turned to Imrahil, addressing the captain. "I would ask that you carry Master Gimli behind you, Imrahil, to Rivendell. We must ride hard and he has need of another rider."

Imrahil nodded, helping the dwarf to mount behind him on Blaze. Aragorn turned to the hobbits as he mounted his own stallion. "We must ride hard, little ones. She has need of a healer and we must reach the safety of Rivendell with all possible haste."

They nodded, even as he spoke the last words. "We'll keep up Aragorn. Have no fear." Pippin said, once again becoming the hobbit who had fought so bravely to help defeat the Dark Lord. Aragorn nodded, pulling Hasufel beside Arwen. "Let us ride, Knights of Gondor! The enemy yet dwells near. Quickly now, we double our pace! To Rivendell!"

At that, they took off swiftly through the trees, the way to Rivendell open to them, even as the forest behind them became shrouded in mist.

Arod flew across the ground, the trees becoming a mere blur to his incredible speed. It would not be long before they would reach Imladris. For his part, Legolas kept his attention on the woman in his arms. He had no fear that Arod would get them to Rivendell with all haste, so he concentrated on this interesting female. Long hair, the color of the richest earth and soft as satin was tied back from her face. Her skin was pale, mostly due to the workings of the poison, but underneath the sickness, he could discern that her normal coloring was indeed fair, almost translucent. He had not seen the color of her eyes, as they had remained closed ere their arrival in the glade. Long, dark lashes fanned along her cheek, the contrast sharp with her increasing pallor. High cheekbones slashed across a delicate face. Her nose was small, a perfect fit with her features.

Her lips drew his attention as she moaned in her sleep, a frown marring her brow. They had parted on her breath, remaining as such even as she settled deeper into the unconscious realm that held her. Her mouth was full, ripe, the lips a soft pink. Her skin was soft, silky to touch. Had her ears been pointed, he would have thought her an elf with such features. She wore strange clothing, not something that one would have seen on any woman of any lands he knew in Middle Earth. Leggings of a harsh material covered her legs and her tunic was short, stopping at her waist and leaving her arms bare. The pieces hugged her frame, outlining perfectly the feminine form. And beyond it all, he felt an overwhelming sense of recognition, as though he had met her somewhere before. But he couldn't tell where, nor could he understand such a reaction. So he left the thought, waiting until he had the opportunity to reflect on it with greater depth.

He looked up, seeing the Ford in the distance. He urged Arod on, hoping beyond hope that they would pass by it without further incident. It seemed that the Valar were with him this day, for he passed the Ford without being stopped by any other forces. Legolas urged Arod even faster, racing through the trees to reach the gate that would signify the entrance to the Last Homely House. He was only a short distance away, his keen sight making out the intricate form of the archway, when two figures suddenly jumped in front of Arod, causing the horse to shy in fright.

"Tampa! Essa lle poere!" one of the tall figures said.

"Faarea! N'amin Taren Legolas, Utinu Thranduil. Amin sinome elea Heru Elrond!"

The two guards stepped back, bowing gracefully before him and gesturing him to continue. Legolas once again spurred Arod into a gallop and raced underneath the gates of Imladris with the woman still tucked safely in his arms. He was not surprised to see Lord Elrond standing there, waiting for him with several other attendants with him. The smile, however, that had been gracing his features faded when he saw that Legolas was alone and the bundle in his arms. The Elf-Lord rushed forward, worry evident in his face.

"Prince Legolas, what has happened? Where is the rest of your company? Where is my daughter? And who is this woman that you carry?"

"My Lord, I will explain. But she has need of a healer, and swiftly. Orcs attacked her and her companion near the edge of Trollshaws. The knife that wounded her shoulder was poisoned and the cut on her arm is deep. She had lost much blood I fear." He surrendered her to the waiting arms of the attendants who had rushed out behind their Lord. "Aragorn and the rest of our company ride closely behind. They should be here in but a short while. All is well with them as the battle with the orcs did not concern us overly much. But I suspect we should wait for their return before telling the entire tale."

Elrond simply nodded, accepting this information. "You have said that she has a companion? Where is she?"

"She rides with Aragorn and the others. We encountered her first. She was running from a smaller band of Uruk-hai, and barely made it to the glade where we waited before she was struck with an arrow. Arwen did not believe it poisoned so there was not so much haste to get her here quickly."

"I see." Before he could say more to the Prince, Elladan and Elrohir, his twin sons, rode through the gates of the Elven city. The two had been out with some of the other guards on the southern border, but had returned to greet their sister and her husband as they made their arrival this afternoon. Smiles lit their face when their gazes rested upon Legolas, but quickly turned to frown's as they realized that the prince was alone.

"Where are the King and Queen of Gondor?" Elladan asked.

"There is much to be explained, my sons," Elrond replied, holding up his hand to ward off any more of their questions. "But Legolas has had a long journey and must rest. The rest of his company is following and will be here shortly. Their tale can wait until they've had sufficient respite from their voyage." Turning to one of his stewards, he said, "Prepare a room for the other woman and notify the healers to be ready." He turned back to Legolas, who had dismounted, and returned the bow that was given to him.

"Grateful are we to see you returned safely to this house, Legolas, Son of Thranduil. Your horse will be provided for and rooms have been prepared for your comfort. All your needs will be seen to and should you require anything, you only need ask."

"My thanks, Lord Elrond," the Prince said, again bowing low at his waist. "I would very much like to refresh myself ere the others arrival. We must speak of these transpirings with as much haste as possible."

"I agree, young one," the great Elf Lord said. He smiled at the Prince, noting how he grimaced slightly at the old nickname. "You will be notified when the others have arrived and have taken their own rest. We will meet an hour before the supper bell to discuss the events that have passed. Until then, rest well, young Prince."

Legolas nodded, and turned to make his way into the house. He had only made it a few steps, however, before he was tackled from behind. The air left his lungs in a rush as two bodies fell atop his own, crushing him beneath the combined weight.

Elrond sighed, looking skyward, hoping for divine intervention. "Ai, Elbereth! Why must they be so rambunctious after all these years?" Turning back to the scene before him, he shook his head, a smile threatening to curve his lips. Elladan and Elrohir had planted themselves firmly on Legolas' chest, causing the Prince to struggle for breath. Such is the welcoming of young elves I suppose, he thought, not taking his eyes from the skirmish that took place on his front steps.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" he called out, making his voice harsh for effect. They glanced at their father guiltily, knowing that they were about to be reprimanded. "The Prince is tired and travel weary. I will not tell you again that he needs his rest." He nodded at their apologetic shrugs and turned away as they picked themselves up off Legolas, allowing him a much needed gasp of air. Lord Elrond made his was with great speed to the healing chambers. If her wounds were as grievous as the Prince had suggested, she would be in need of great care.

The twins watched their father turn away, then turned to help Legolas to his feet. Each took their turn clapping him on the back and welcoming him back to Rivendell. "You have been away too long, my friend, if you allow us to take you so completely by surprise." Elladan teased, knowing that it would ruffle the Prince's feathers.

He was not disappointed.

"I would have beaten you both," Legolas boasted, "had my mind not been occupied with other things."

"Ah," Elrohir said, his gaze turning mischievous. "The woman. Tell me friend, when did you taste turn to that of mortals? Surely your time in Minas Tirith has taught you even more the great difference between Elven women and those of the mortal world."

Legolas grimaced, shooting Elrohir a glare that caused the twin to laugh grandly. "I have not taken to bedding mortal women, nor do I intend to!" he stated, silently adding, only in my dreams, to his statement. "She and another were attacked by Uruk-hai near the Ford when we came upon them. Both were wounded, but the female that I carried more so. I rode ahead to seek the aid of your father. The other's follow with her companion."

At this news, both the twins turned serious. "Uruk-hai? Just beyond the Ford!" Elladan could not keep the incredulity caused by that statement from his voice. "And they attacked the two women you say?"

Legolas nodded, turning to walk to his usual room that he occupied whenever he visited the fair Elven city of Imladris. Elladan and Elrohir followed him, both their minds on what the Prince had told them. "What do you suppose they were doing, coming so close to Imladris?"

Neither of the other two could answer Elrohir's question and so they walked the rest of the way to Legolas's room in contemplative silence. Upon reaching the intricately carved door that signaled the Prince's quarters, the brothers wished the Prince a pleasant respite and too their leave.

Legolas shut the door, allowing himself a sigh of relief at finally having reached Rivendell. They had been traveling for weeks and to finally be able to sleep on a bed after days of lying on the hard ground was certainly a liberation of sorts. He reached behind him to release his quiver and knives from their resting place on his back and laid them on the table near the window. He paused, the open window drawing him. He stood out on the balcony, his eyes closed, relishing the feeling of peace that surrounded this place. The building in Ithilien had taken much of his energy and devotion and so, when the invitation had come from Lord Elrond to attend the celebration, he had accepted eagerly. He knew that Faramir and Eowyn would handle this splendidly in his absence and did not worry overly much about leaving.

Turning away from the window, Legolas made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge to remove his boots. He set them aside, his thoughts drifting to the troubling shadow that had been piercing his thoughts more and more frequently. There was much that he wished to discuss with both Elrond and Mithrandir this evening, but for now, he would be content to spending a few hours asleep. He stood for only a moment, and only to remove his over vest and belt, before lying down and falling into a deep slumber, his mind wandering to happy memories of moon bright nights, running beneath the trees of his home in Mirkwood.

Elladan and Elrohir walked from Legolas' room in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Elladan could not believe the audacity of the Uruk-hai. Since the fall of Sauron, none had dared a frontal attack on any company, especially if they were close to any sort of stronghold. To even hear of such demons this far West into Eriador was so incredible that almost Elladan forgot his utter rage at their impudence. Almost.

Elrohir shared the feelings of his brother, and wondered how they should act to this obvious threat. "What say you, brother?" he asked, finally breaking the silence around them.

His twin shook his dark head, his keen eyes clouded with a mixture of rage, worry, and confusion. "I'm not certain. But we must be extra cautious." He turned then, regarding his Elrohir carefully. Elrohir stopped, concerned by the look in his eyes.

"What is it, tororamin?"

Elladan looked out across Imladris, gathering his scattered thoughts. When next he spoke, it was in a soft voice, so that only Elrohir could hear him. "Have you felt it, Elrohir?"

"Felt? What is it that you speak of Elladan? Tell me for I would know what causes you such concern and unease." His voice was colored with anxiety for the obvious distress that radiated from his twin.

"I'm not sure, brother," Elladan said at length, turning his azure eyes back to his brother. "I have felt a.shadow of sorts of late. It comes as a mist, strengthening when darkness gathers. With the dawn it has usually receded, but lately it has grown more bold, piercing the morning and stealing the brightness that colors the land." He furrowed his brow in frustration, once again beginning the walk back to the gates. "It is always present in my mind. But I can feel it more prevalently now."

Elrohir shook his head. His twin had always been the more sensitive one of the two when it came to such things. He would be the first to admit that Elladan had an incredible gift of 'sight' that he was not blessed with. It only served to cause Elrohir to trust him all the more. "I regret that I have not felt such a presence. I have noticed the woods have been more subdued of late than they have been, but I have thought nothing of it until now. What do you suggest we do then?"

They had reached the clearing surrounding the entrance, and both paused just out of the hearing of the attendants milling about. "For now, we say nothing. Perhaps at the meeting this evening we may bring it up, let our concerns be known to all. Mayhap some of the others will have suggestions of their own. But peace for now, dear brother. Let us go out and meet Arwen and Aragorn to show them safely into Rivendell." He grinned suddenly, a thought coming to his mind. "I would not want them to get lost like the last time they rode together from a previous destination."

Elrohir laughed, breaking the shroud that had clouded their talk, the light sound piercing the gloom. "True, brother. That turned out disastrously as I recall. Father near had a fit when he found out." They mounted, signaling to several of the guards that were close at hand.

"We ride to meet the company from Gondor. Stay with us and be alert for any unfriendly eyes!" Elladan commanded. Not waiting to see if they would be followed, for they knew their command as Captains over the Guard would ensure the action, the two elves turned and urged their mounts to the mouth of the Ford, each praying to the Valar for the safe return of their brother and sister.

Aragorn urged Hasufel on, knowing that the others were struggling with their mounts just as much as he. All were tired as they pressed on toward the Ford. He could tell they were close, recognizing several landmarks that he, Elladan, and Elrohir had used in younger years to guide them home when they had been traveling for long periods of time. Arwen, who rode beside him, felt peace and relief wash over her as she spotted the waters of the Ford just in front of them. Leaning in her saddle, she said to her husband, "The river is just ahead. We will be in Imladris shortly, a'mael."

Aragorn nodded, glancing behind him to the hobbits. "That is well, melamin, for I do not think that the hobbits can stand much more of the pace that we have set." His words rang true for indeed the four smallest members had fallen behind and were steadily losing pace. All could see the exhaustion on their features and in the stride of their ponies. Even Gimli, who was used to riding with Legolas for long periods of time, was showing signs of fatigue and strain. Such was the result of many weeks of riding, thought Aragorn.

As they crossed the waters of the Ford, all in the company breathed a sigh of relief, the danger that had been present and apparent to all fading with the peace emitting from the Elven city. Arwen closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the forests that surrounded her home. It felt good to be within the safety of her people. For all that she loved riding and enjoyed the outdoors, she enjoyed the comforts of home and the welcoming warmth of a bed and bath. Her hand found Aragorn's clasping it tightly as they rode between the towering pines and elms. She prayed that Legolas had made his way in safety. Aragorn, sensing her thoughts, turned to reassure her.

"He has made it, my love. Legolas is strong and a capable warrior and Arod would not stop until he felt that his master was safe. Fear not."

Arwen smiled, gripping his hand more tightly. "You give me great comfort, husband, for my thoughts have been heavy concerning my dear friend. I know he is capable an strong, but I cannot help but worry over those who are important to me."

Smiling his reassurance, he dropped her hand, turning his attention to getting them safely across. He tensed, seeing a group of riders coming towards them, but relaxed as he saw the horses that led the group. His half-brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, broke away from the main group of riders to meet them halfway. Arwen cried out joyfully, pushing her mare into a gallop to greet her family, Aragorn not far behind.

Gimli peered out from behind Imrahil's back, shaking his head and chuckling with mirth as he watched the King of Gondor being tackled into the dirt by Elladan or Elrohir, which one he could never unless talking to them, and Arwen being swung in a wide circle by the other. It was a jovial sight and the Knights of Gondor stopped their mounts a respectful distance away to allow them a private reunion.

Pippin halted his pony next to Sam, his eyes taking in the sight of Arwen and Aragorn before him. "Think they'll remember we're here?" he asked the other hobbit.

Frodo smiled, having overheard Pippin's comment, and a rare glimmer entered his eyes. "I wouldn't worry about it, Pippin," he said, his own gaze returning to the four before him. "I doubt they will soon forget us, seeing as how Merry's stomach growls so loudly!"

Merry frowned, an indignant sound coming from his throat. "Well you would be hungry, too, if you had been forced to ride all day without food or sustenance!"

Sam glowered at him, ignoring the snort of the dwarf behind them. "We have been riding all day without sustenance, you dolt!"

Gimli laughed outright at that, thinking that hobbits arguing over food was almost as entertaining as arguing with Legolas. Speaking of which, his eyes came to rest of the woman Rangor still held, noting her pale features and blood soaked, although strange, tunic. He glanced between where Aragorn stood talking with the twins and Arwen, back to the woman, and back again, debating on calling out to the King.

When the woman moaned, he decided that he had best say something for her benefit. "Aragorn!"

The man turned, his eyes meeting that dwarf's, questioning the call. Gimli nodded his head in the female's direction, letting the King know silently what he queried. Aragorn nodded, turning and saying something to Elladan and Elrohir. They nodded quickly, their eyes locking on the pale form. One of them said something to Arwen before they parted, each mounting his own steed.

Aragorn turned in the saddle, facing those that were still behind them. "Come, friends! Tonight we enjoy the hospitality of the elves and the comfort of beds and warm food!"

At the mention of food, the hobbits seemed to brighten visibly, and the discussion turned toward what they thought might be the main feast for the evening. For Gimli's part, he was merely counting the minutes left that he would have to endure on the back of this beast. His pride was sore and he was certain that he would not be able to walk straight for a month for all the bumps and bruises he had sustained because of this journey. He grimaced in discomfort, shifting slightly to ease the new pains that erupted when Imrahil started forward again at a fast clip. Sighing, he thought of how good it would be to feel solid earth beneath his feet once again.

'Blast Legolas,' he thought, his mind turning to the elf. 'Had he not insisted that I join this company, I might be enjoying a hearty fire and a soft seat. Instead, I am made to ride on the back of this horrible beast and made to endure all sorts of discomfort. He will pay dearly for making me suffer so.' So it was, as they rode through the forest toward the gates of Rivendell, that the dwarf contemplated interesting and inventive ways of repaying a certain elf for all the indignities he had suffered for his travel.

Author's Notes:

"Lye karnuva ta e'luume'-We will make it in time.

"Noro lim, Arod. Noro path, noro bell."-Ride fast, Arod. Ride hard, ride smooth.

"Tampa! Essa lle poere!"-Stop! State your purpose!

"Faarea! N'amin Taren Legolas, Utinu Thranduil. Amin sinome elea Heru Elrond!"-Enough! I am Prince Legolas, Son of Thranduil. I am here to see Lord Elrond!

Tororamin-My brother

**Author's Notes:** Ok. I think that I need to clarify a few things here. First off, this happens before there is a Lord of the Rings movie. The only thing that Meroryan and Elsie can go by are descriptions in the book and such. So they have no idea who's who until introductions are made. Secondly, I know my elvish it terrible. I would welcome ANY help with it and any suggestions on Sindarin or Quenya or anything else that would make it better for those reading. Thirdly. This is not our Earth. It's a whole other realm in the Universe that is separate from space and time as we see it. Meroryan knows about the elves and such because of the Ancients, who have been to their time and know of their people and ways. If anyone has any questions for me, anything that needs explaining, please email me and let me know. I'll be happy to help with what I can. Thanks.  
Ok…here goes. I need to thank some people. Littlefish: What can I say….thank you for your help and input. I hope that you will like the rest of the story. Thundera Tiger….THANKS SO MUCH for the Elvish sites. They've been a HUGE help. If you have any suggestions for me on the way that I use it, please let me know. Anything else anyone has to add I'm more than welcome to hear! Please review!  
**Character List**:  
Meroryan—One of the child of the Tua De Dannaa. Immortal and powerful.  
Elsie—Meroryan's best friend of five years. Met in first Lit class.  
Nadriel—one of the Ancients. Trained Meroryan.  
Relampago—Another Ancient. A stallion of great speed and stealth. Not unlike Shadowfax.  
Sharnok—Evil Ancient who shunned his powers by turning against good.  
Garnor—Captain of the Uruk-hai.  
Imrahil—I know this is a name of a different character in Tolkein's world. Captain of the Knights of Gondor in mine.:P  
Rangor—Knight of Gondor.  
Arwen—Queen of Gondor  
Aragorn—King of Gondor  
Gimli—Son of Gloin. Dwarf. Lord of Glittering Caves.  
Sam, Frodo, Pippin, and Merry—Hobbits from the Fellowship.  
Arod—Legolas' horse from Rohan.  
Hasufel—Aragorn's horse…also from Rohan.  
Legolas--…..Girl please!


	5. Stirrings

**Chapter Five: Stirrings**

Elrond strode briskly through the corridors, his robes swirling about him regally. He was greatly troubled by the news Legolas had brought with him. Such tidings had not been so ill since the downfall of Sauron and the overthrow of Mordor. The world had been silent now for some time now, peace and joy returning to the forests, rivers, and valleys, that the great Elf Lord did not know what to make of these sudden dealings. He was certain, though, that this attack bode evil intent for all free peoples of Middle Earth.

He twisted his way among the corridors, turning and climbing stairs until he came at last to the room where the attendants had taken the young woman. An incredibly innate door stood at the end of the hall, it etchings those of Elvish healing spells. The Lord of Imladris walked through it, closing the door gently behind him, his keen eyes missing nothing as he scanned the room. Healers moved quickly around the room, mixing herbs and potions to cleanse the poison from the woman's body. Already it had taken its toll on her, causing beads of sweat to form on her brow, her body wracked with convulsions as she struggled to draw breath. His eyes met those of Airioswen, his second, and she shook her head gravely. Lord Elrond could only stare at her, his thoughts turning dark.

Snapping his gaze once again to the form twisting on the bed, the elf felt a burst of incredible pain and anguish come from the girl. This poison works quickly, Elrond thought. For that moment, he had felt as though fire had been running through his body, stealing his strength and breath under its heat and intense pressure. And he shuddered at the young girl's distress. And there is more than poison that causes her such grief and suffering. Forcing his body to movement, Elrond stood close to Airioswen as she cupped the girl's neck, tilting her head so that she might be able to pour one of the potions that would reduce the swelling that was obstructing her airway.

"How fares she, Airioswen?"

The gentle elf shook her head, her attention focused solely on the patient before her. "Not well, my Lord. Already the poison runs thickly, too thickly, through her blood and saps the strength from her body. We must hurry if we are to save her from passing beyond this world."

"Do what you must," Elrond said, nodding to her. "I will return shortly to aid you however I may. Prince Legolas informed me that her companion," he nodded his head in the direction of the woman on the bed, "was also injured and in need of aid, though not so seriously as she. I will bring her with me when I return and turn her over to your care."

The healer bowed to her Lord, turning to take another brew from one of the other elves in the room. Elrond strode purposefully for the door, opening it only to pause at the threshold. "I will take over her charge when I come again." His eyes strayed to the thrashing figure on the bed. "We cannot let her pass. I fear some great importance radiates from this child. We must save her, at any and all costs!" With that, the elf Lord strode briskly out of the room, leaving Airioswen to ponder at his words. But she did not hesitate for too long for the woman gave a great heaving gasp, turning all attention back to her.

It was with all possible haste that the riders from Gondor arrived in the city of Rivendell, guarded by the watchful eyes of the sentinels that stood between the Ford and the gate of the city. Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief at finally having reached their destination without further harm being done. As it was, the girl whom they had first encountered had yet to waken from her unconscious state and all within their company were tired and hard pressed. Searching the faces around him, Aragorn noted that each, to some degree, carried the weight of exhaustion heavily on their features.

A slight touch on his arm made him turn his head, the frown that had been marring his brow turning to a warm smile for the woman who rested her mount beside his.

"Lye cael'karne ta, vernoamin."

"I'Valar nae yassen lye, Arwen." They shared a smile, their eyes warming as they met. Aragorn reached his hand across the distance, laying his palm against the soft skin of her cheek. "Amin mela lle."

Arwen smiled, her heart bursting with the love that she had for this man. "Amin mela lle, vithel, Aragorn."

Their would be embrace was interrupted abruptly by a large noise from behind them. The lovers turned, their eyes turning from confused concern to amusement when met with the sight before them. Gimli had been attempting to dismount from his place behind Imrahil and had managed to get his foot tangled in the leather that held the saddle in place. He had fallen hard, his pride taking the brunt of it, adding the already painful sensations that riding hard for weeks in a saddle had cause his body. Arwen stifled a laugh behind her hand, turning away so as not to offend the already angry, and most definitely humiliated, dwarf, while Aragorn's lips quirked in amusement. The hobbits were, at this moment, taking the brunt of Gimli's displeasure for they were laughing openly, considering this fair justice to the earlier wrongs done to them that morning.

"S-s-see what h-hap-pens when you do horrible things t-to others?" Sam stuttered, his guffaws loud enough to wake the dead in Gimli's opinion.

"True, Sam," Frodo said, joining the others in their mocking the dwarf. He was a little miffed himself at waking to cold water being poured all over him this morning and considered this something that Gimli had coming. Even the soldiers were stifling giggles and snickers behind mail clad hands. It was a truly amusing sight indeed.

Scowling, Gimli frowned at the hobbits, his focus completely on trying to keep himself from rubbing the sorest part of his body and giving both soldiers and hobbits something else to amuse themselves. "I would be cautious about taunting a dwarf if I were you, Master Samwise. You've already seen what can happen when we dwarves are feeling affronted or such. Must I remind you about Moria?"

This immediately caught the attention of the hobbits, making them shift a little uncomfortably in their saddles. The soldiers were confused, to say the least. Gimli, of course, was referring to the time in Moria that he had stuffed a small snake into Merry's pack as revenge for a comment made on 'Dwarf architecture'. Merry had been frightened out of his wits when he had opened his bag, only to receive a tongue lashing from Gandalf for making too much noise.

Gimli turned away from the four small beings, satisfaction written in his features for his ability to make them cease in their laughter, only to catch Aragorn and Arwen looking at him, mirth evident in their eyes. He frowned harder, if such a thing was possible, staring them down and daring them to say something about his less than graceful dismount. Aragorn turned away after a moment, his eyes meeting Elladan's and Elrohir's. The twins were grinning broadly, making it all the more difficult for him to contain his laughter beneath the stern king façade.

Turning, mischief in his eyes, Elladan spoke to the still irate dwarf. "I would have thought spending the time that you have on the back of Arod, you would have learned by now how to make your way from the elevated position in which you ride, Master Gimli, to the ground that you love so dear. Of course," he continued, ignoring Aragorn's warning look, "if you were so eager to find the ground beneath you, why did you not simply ask for Imrahil's assistance in lowering you to your feet, rather than allowing your pride, both of them, to bear the brunt of your fall?"

"Elladan."Aragorn growled threateningly beneath his breath. All were tired and in much need of rest. The soldiers had already begun dismounting and letting the stable hands take their mounts and here was his half-brother, teasing an already incensed dwarf.

Elladan ignored him, his face threatening to split into a broad grin at any second. But it was Gimli that surprised Aragorn the most. He said nothing, merely turning a thoughtful gaze on the elf. Aragorn became suspicious immediately. It was unlike Gimli to let an elf, any elf get the best of him and so for him to be so calm about the comment that Elladan had made was certainly enough to alert the King.

It wasn't long before Gimli replied to Elladan's remark. "Indeed, mayhap you speak the truth Master Elf. Perhaps I should have waited. However, I find it rather difficult to remain on the back of an animal that prefers for me to be on the ground, rather than on his back. So my not waiting was the best possible solution to the problem. Wouldn't you agree Elahir?"

At the sound of his brother's childhood name on Gimli's lips, Elrohir could no longer contain his laughter and let loose. His brother turned an accusing glare on him which only made Elrohir laugh all the harder. Aragorn and Arwen were not immune and were themselves struggling to remain upright. Gimli had another one of his satisfied smiles on his lips. Even the hobbits were snickering behind hands.

"I shall truly enjoy killing Legolas for this," Elladan said, his own eyes revealing the mirth that was not present on his face.

"C-come, brother. You must have known that Legolas would tell Gimli of our childhood names we created for each other."

Aragorn dismounted then, still chuckling, and moved to help Arwen from her saddle. "True. There isn't much that Legolas hasn't told Gimli regarding his past with all of us."

Elladan smiled then, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "I wonder then," he said to the others as he slid gracefully from Mealin's back, "whether or not he made mention to Gimli the name that we had picked out for him."

The four siblings smirked at each other, each turning to look at Gimli for denial or confirmation. Their smiles only grew as Gimli shook his head, his own grin spread across his face as he waited for them to tell him what his elf-friend had been taunted with.

There was dead silence for a beat, then Elladan said very succinctly, "Leg'las."

The entire courtyard erupted with laughter. Sam and Frodo grabbed their sides, laughing at such a name being given to the stern prince that they knew. Merry and Pippin slid bonelessly to the ground, clutching their sides and howling with mirth. Gimli let out great guffaws of amusement, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Aragorn and Arwen clutched each other, laughing with pure enjoyment at the hobbits and Gimli. Elladan and Elrohir had collapsed on the stairs, their own eyes shining with moisture from laughing so hard.

It was this sight that greeted Elrond as he walked briskly to the newly returned group. He paused, lifting an eyebrow at Imrahil, who was standing off to the side. The Captain shrugged, wordlessly conveying his own confusion. Elrond cleared his throat, hoping to gain the attention of the figures who were now littered in helpless heaps on the ground. When that failed to work, the Lord of Imladris, amusement shining in his eyes, brought himself to his full height, and declared in his best Lord-of-the- Manor voice, "WHAT is the meaning of this?"

The laughter died almost immediately. All eyes snapped warily to the doorway where the Elven Lord stood. From their place just below their father on the stairs, the twins rose guiltily to their feet, glancing at each other with knowing eyes. That was the voice the one heard before punishment.

"Elladan, Elrohir. Explain." Elrond's tone left no room for argument and the two brothers, who had lived for so many thousands of years, felt again as though they were only twenty-five.

"Nothing, father," Elladan said, bowing low before his Lord. "We were merely jesting about old time."

"And you feel that now is the time for jests, Captain?"

Elladan winced, but it was Elrohir that answered. Bowing, the commander answered, "Nay, father. It was merely something that came up."

Only Aragorn and Arwen, who had remained silent, noticed the twinkle that lit those gray depths that could turn a man to stone, and they smiled at each other. The hobbits had managed to pull some semblance of order and pick each other off the ground, while Gimli began to dust off his armor.

Sparing one last scathing glance at his unruly twins, Elrond stepped lightly down the stairs to embrace his son-in-law and daughter. "Welcome home, my children. It has been to long."

Aragorn bowed respectfully before the elf who had raised him, love and warmth shining in his eyes. "Hello, atar," Arwen said, stepping lovingly into his embrace.

Turning, the great Lord spied the hobbits milling just behind the others. "Welcome again to Rivendell, Master Hobbits and Master Gimli. It is with greater pleasure that I greet you this time, though I fear that all may not be as well as we hope it to be." His face became concerned then, his eyes troubled. "Legolas arrived some time ago, brining with him a woman who was badly wounded. He said something of her companion. Where is she?"

"Here, my Lord," said Rangor, stepping forward, the woman still in his arms.

Elrond motioned him forward, his keen gaze searching the woman's face and form for signs of her injuries. "We did not believe her as badly wounded as her companion, atar," Arwen explained, stepping forward. "That is why we sent no other escort ahead with her."

Elrond nodded, accepting his daughter's words and motioned for two of his attendants milling about to come and bear the woman to the healer's quarters. "Legolas mentioned the attack by the Uruk-hai. But," he said, raising a hand to ward off any explanation that Estel had been about to give, "all tales must wait. Rooms have been prepared for your rest, my friends. We will meet an hour before the supper bell chimes. I would have explanations then. For now, you will be shown to your quarters, where you may take your respite. The women are being seen to. Go now. Let your minds be cleared of any troubles. Until later."

He dismissed the group before him, turning once again to his sons. He allowed them to see only his stern disapproval of their behavior earlier before breaking into a smile. "I trust that no further antics or displays such as those you have exhibited are forthcoming this day?"

"Nay, father," Elrohir replied readily, sighing in relief.

"Then see to your duties. I would require your presence tonight when we speak of the matters that have occurred this day. Evil stirs and I would have all in attendance to discuss what must be done."

The two bowed low before turning and making their way across the courtyard. Elrond stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon. He could feel the presence of evil stirring in the distance, the shadow that was rising in the mountains. It troubled him greatly that such a threat would intrude upon them so soon after the destruction of Sauron. He sighed then, weariness creeping over him. Such is the way of the world. Evil is defeated, only to have a new evil take its place. Would that we would have had longer to recover. But no matter. We must be prepared for whatever new perils lie ahead. He turned then, making his way back to the chambers he had left only moments before. The women needed tending to. He would see to them first and let time take its course. Before the night was over, he hoped to have more answers to the riddles that plagued his mind.

The shadow could feel his power growing. It was only a matter of time now before he would be able to control all of Middle Earth and the inhabitants therein. He laughed, the sound gratingly harsh in the dark caverns where he now dwelled. How he had waited for this moment. For thousands of years he had bided his time in his prison, plotting revenge on the innocents who dwelt in the land where he had been imprisoned. A creature who had once lived and basked in the sunlight had become deformed, reveling in shadow and darkness.

To his enemies he was known as Sharnok. Once an ancient, he had abused the powers given to him by Gaia. The Tua De Dannaa had first learned of his attempts at power at the beginning of their existence. They feared the Ancient one who sought their enslavement to his will. So they had called for Nadriel and Relampago, for the Ancients of the old days, for the fathers of their world. And in turn, they had taken him to Gaia. She had judged him, stripping him of his powers, and allowing his fellow immortals decide his sentence. Eternity in the darkness he had so desired to bring upon others. And so, had been banished from the world he once knew, sent to live in another place, at another time, hurled into the darkest crevice of the deepest mountain in that realm. For the first thousand years, he had pleaded with Gaia to release him, to allow him another chance for freedom, for peace.

But the Great One had not heeded his pleas, knowing his heart to be evil, unchanged. And the slight had burned him. So he no longer suffered his voice to be heard. Instead, he had turned his ear to the land around him, listening to the deep tidings of the Earth. He had gleaned much from the rocks that entombed him. They told him of their beginning, their present. They spoke of strange beings, those that he had only heard of in the stories of the Tua De Dannaa. They spoke of light and joy, of peace and knowledge beyond years. But Sharnok cared nothing of these things anymore. He had learned to love the darkness, finding strength from the inky blackness surrounding him. Silence became his domain, tuning his senses to trace the smallest sounds, the lightest sighs that were given off by the things that came near his prison.

It was there, seven thousand years after his imprisonment, that the immortal being first heard the whispers of a growing malevolence on the land. The rocks had spoken of a Dark Lord and his quest for ultimate power. He had rejoiced, feeling kinship to this power that sought dominion over those who would seek to take it from him. Discouragement had come with his first defeat. But he knew that all was not in vain. So when darkness crept back into the land, he smiled in the dark, knowing what vengeance and retribution would be brought upon those that had destroyed such evil. His own mind was akin to that of the Dark Lord, desire for power and dominion over those who had destroyed him ever present in his mind. But then news of the Dark One's fall had reached him, and Sharnok had raged, howling with fury at the peoples who had overthrown him, and the innocents in the land where he was now captive, at the Ancients and Gaia. But his hatred was most especially turned toward the Tua De Dannaa. Had they not interfered, he would have succeeded, never having to suffer this torment in the dark. His rage had consumed him, boiling and erupting like a volcano, the rocks around him trembling at the power of his anger.

It was at this time, when the Earth had already been weakened, and the land had lost much strength in the battle for good, that Sharnok heard a new sound beside the silence. A tiny rustling, like that of a birds wings on the summer breeze. And in the piercing dark, his eyes had caught the sharp brightness of light. To one who sees the light of day constantly, it would have been nothing. Merely a speck of light that hung in the shadow. But to one who had spent much of his immortal days in a darkness so thick that even shadows fled its presence, it was like a beacon, beckoning him to freedom. And so, after years of waiting, of biding his time, Sharnok had found his release in a tiny gap created by his immeasurable anger.

And now the dark thing sat upon his 'throne', overseeing the work done by the creatures that he had enlisted. Even the presence of the Guardian could not diminish his enthusiasm and anticipation. Already he had waited too long, already he had allowed his imprisonment to continue for too much time. Now it was time to act, to take his revenge, to bring about his plan of ultimate evil. With the Guardian here, it only made it all the more sweet.

Sharnok rose, gliding through the dark caverns that had been his home for almost ten thousand years. We will see what your Guardian is capable of, Nadriel. We will see what mettle holds her in such high esteem, what skills you have managed to teach her, what heart beats inside her breast. The Uruk-hai glanced up from their metal workings, only to cower away from the dark form hovering on the edge of the darkness.

"Where is Garnor?"

The wretched beast who he had addressed fell to his knees, bowing his head low before his Master. "Garnor has gone to speak with those who returned from your errand, Most Honored One."

The Master smiled, pleased with this news. "Send him to me when he returns."

"Yes, Sire." The shadow receded, leaving the nearest to him shivering with the cold that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Sharnok was pleased with the efforts of these evil beings. They worked without question, following whatever order he gave. Such wonderful beasts to have under my control, he thought. Evil in heart and soul, they ever seek to destroy the light. Ah, 'tis a wonderful thing. He chuckled darkly, the iciness stealing over the cavernous room.

Sharnok approached the only table in attendance within the caves. On this piece, there stood one solitary kettle. Sharnok had sent scouts to find specific herbs and roots to grind into a paste that would be used to coat a knife. One knife. That was all that it would take. He fingered the substance, delighting in the way it burrowed beneath the skin, sinking into the veins to do the most damage possible. 'Twas a harsh poison, one that was feared by the Ancients, respected by Gaia herself. Few knew how to make it. And he would see that it worked to his purposes.

He heard footsteps approaching in the dark and turned to meet the Captain of the Uruk-hai and he bowed on his knees before his Master. "It is done," was all that he said.

Smiling, Sharnok approached the kneeling figure. "Excellent. Now I have another task for you. Send your Uruk-hai to the valley of the Elves. Close enough to see the comings and goings, but not to get caught by the patrols that are certain to be keeping a closer watch on the surrounding forests and streams. Inform me of any and all movements made by those within."

"Yes, My Lord."

After Garnor had taken his leave, he hurried immediately to his second in command, giving his orders in the harsh tongue of the orcs, not allowing any space for argument. Sharnok felt the power growing within him. We will now see, Nadriel, if your Guardian can stand against the poison of the dead. Let her fight the darkness within herself, and then I will face her, turn her, use her. Ah, Nadriel, your fall will be great, and the fall of this Middle Earth even greater. The laugh that echoed through the caverns was pure Evil.

Nadriel and Relampago both turned as the wind came howling across the planes. It swept through the trees, causing them to shiver in its wake. Nadriel hung his head, his heart aching that he must wait to go to her. But it was what had to be done. The only way that they would know for a certain if she was up to the task, that she could handle the evil that now threatened this land that was not their home.

Relampago snorted, tossing his dark head against the evil he felt on the wind. Nadriel nodded, agreeing with the stallion. "He grows ever powerful. I fear for this Earth should he ever conquer them. His darkness would be like a plague, killing all good things and leaving shadow and destruction in his wake."

Looking down on his friend, the Ancient One sighed, his heart rent in two. "Pray that she remembers her own strength and courage, my friend. Pray that her heart remains true. Pray that she does not lose her way in the dark, that the light of those who would love her will be strong enough the carry her through the gloom. Pray," he said, turning his eyes to the West, "that she allows herself to be loved, and to love again."

The clouds shifted then, turning dark and ominous. And when the lightning flashed across the sky, splitting the world, and the rain thundered down to soak the Earth, the two Ancients kept their vigil, sending strength and courage to the child who lay within the Elven realm, her life hanging by the delicate thread of hope.

Author's Note: "Lye cael'karne ta, vernoamin."-We have made it, my husband.

"I'Valar nae yassen lye, Arwen."-The Valar were with us, Arwen.

"Amin mela lle."-I love you.

"Amin mela lle, vithel, Aragorn."-I love you, also, Aragorn


	6. Counsels

**Chapter Six: Counsels**

Darkness and pain fogged around her. Shadows rose to cover her, pulling her down beneath its icy waters. She was swept away in the swift current, losing all memory of space and time. There she hovered, a dream-like trance taking over her mind. In all her long years, she had never known such blackness. It seemed to send even the darkest shadows in retreat, 'til not even the barest of lights shone. She hung there, the mists swirling about her, keeping her from rising to consciousness. She could vaguely make out voices in the distance, strange words spoken softly, chanting almost in their rhythm. These were not the voices of the demons she had fought. They were kind, gentle in their nature, melodic in their tune.

She recoiled suddenly, feeling a strange cup press against her lips. The poison induced fever took hold and fear grasped her heart. Where was she? What did these strange beings want with her? What new brew was she to drink? But calming hands and soft words seemed to touch something inside of her and she allowed the potion to be poured down her throat. The blackness seemed to ease a bit, thrown off by whatever concoction she had swallowed.

But the evil that threatened her would not be put off for long, the river gaining strength, fighting the healing herbs that would seek her freedom. Meroryan moaned in pain, curling in on herself to keep the shadows at bay, leaving the battle for life far from her thoughts. She wanted nothing more than to rest, to be free of both conscious and shadow. Hazily she recalled something of import before even her unconscious mind fled from reason and thought. She had forgotten something, someone of great importance to her. But who? What was it that she could not remember? 

Another cup was pressed against her mouth. She struggled vainly to turn away her head, but her body was long lost to her demands. The liquid was poured down her throat and Meroryan recognized the clear, crisp taste of water. She drank heavily, her parched throat and body insisting that she partake of the life giving fluid, before it was taken away from her. Then the darkness came in a great wave, causing Meroryan to cry out in terror before it swept over her, engulfing her in a sea of torment and suffering.

A form rose, silhouetted against the shadow in its darkness. Meroryan cringed, fear welling up and threatening to strangle her. Evil emanated from it, shrouding it in a black mist. Laughter rose up to taunt her, stifling her, stealing the last vestige of her strength. It was in this dark hour, the time when no hope seemed left to her, that voices stirred around her. These were not the voices of the enemy, however. These sounds were soft, beautiful in their tongue, familiar in their tune and sound. Meroryan turned toward them, feeling their strength and courage surround her in the mist, shrouding her with a protective cloak of love and hope. One name came from her parched throat then, the sound so soft that it was more like a sigh, a whispered plea taken quickly by the breeze. _Nadriel_. 

Elrond watched anxiously as Airioswen again tried another mixture in attempts to make the woman more comfortable. He had seen to her companion, binding her shoulder and easing any discomfort that she might be in. Her condition was far less severe than the pale form that was lying before him now. His worst fear for her was in the abrasion on her head. There was evidence of previous injury on both their battered bodies. The wounds were several days old and had held no sign of infection. Obviously one of the two had seen to them, cleaning the lesions and sores as best as one could in the wild. 

The woman lying on the bed before him had far more severe injuries than those her companion was sporting. Besides the fresh orc wounds, her ribs had been cracked, near breaking, and her knee was swollen from having been sprained. Fever from the poison had made her delirious, her voice crying out in anguish and pain. The language that she spoke had never before been heard by the Lord of Imladris. And for an elf as old as he, that was a rare thing indeed.

Needless to say, their presence troubled him almost as greatly as the news of orcs so close to Rivendell, though the concern was not as great. He wondered from whence they hailed. Their dress spoke of foreigners, and yet he had never seen women robe themselves in such garments as these before. Their tunics were made of a light fabric and only covered them to the barest. Their leggings were even more puzzling. The fabric was heavy, much heavier than anything the elves would wear, or human men for that matter. And as humans, for them to be wearing anything that resembled the man's garb was almost inconceivable. Men did not show the same respect to their women that the elves and dwarves did. For a certainty, elves and dwarves were far more respectful toward their ladies than men.

"Airioswen?"

The healer shook her head at her Lord, the silent question answered with that one simple gesture. The woman would not make it through the night if this continued. "The poison has worked more quickly than any that I have ever seen before. I have tried every potion and herb that I dare. Nothing has seemed to help!" Frustration laced the tone of the normally calm elf and Elrond felt it stir within himself as well.

"Is there nothing else you can do for her?" he asked, knowing that there was only one more option that they might have, only one more thing to try, and it made the him sigh inwardly in resignation.

She shook her head, tears of irritation and dissatisfaction in her eyes. "Nothing! I have already poured more mixtures down her throat than I would have even given an elf poisoned by _normal_ orc poisons. I fear to give her anything else lest her body be in greater danger because of it."

"Very well." Elrond touched her shoulder, laying a gentle hand for both comfort and assurance. "I may be able to help her. Let me try." Airioswen looked at him then, hope shining in her eyes, nodding her assent.

The woman shifted again, crying out in the strange tongue once more. Elrond stepped forward, subtly shifting Airioswen aside so that he might attempt to heal her with his skill. He sat beside her on the bed, laying one hand to the clammy skin of her forehead. The other, he placed over her heart. The darkness radiating from beneath her skin made him wince, nausea forming in the pit of his stomach. Whatever evil was consuming her, it was like nothing the Lord had before seen. It demanded him to leave off, let it have the woman. But the healer ignored it, focusing all his efforts and strength into healing the wounds and flushing the poison from her veins.

Pain. So much pain and fear and doubt. How did she survive it? Any elf would have gladly given in to the swirling black that covered her. But Elrond sensed some greater power within her. Already her body was fighting the shadow. And there was something else as well.

Some other presence that confused him. Some outer strength that was being directed through her, around her, giving her courage and urging her to fight the battle for life. There was much power in that aura, great wisdom and knowledge that bespoke thousands upon thousands of years learning and intelligence. It sought him out, wrapping warm fingers around him, seeking his true intent. And with all his Elven skill, he could not hide from it, nor turn it away. But it seemed to sense the good in him, and Elrond sought only to reassure it that he was not intent to further harm this lady. And so it granted him leave, to continue with his work, giving what aid he could. As the presence receded, he heard a whispered sigh, barely audible amidst the roar of evil. A name, murmured on the lips of the woman beneath him. _Nadriel_. Another strange piece of information for later musings. Later, he would ponder these strange tidings, but now he must work to save her.

Elrond turned his focus inward, drawing all his healing abilities and transferring them to the battered form beneath his hands. He felt the healing powers run through him, light surrounding both him and the woman. Her skin seemed to soak in the light, gulping greedily like one starved of water in the desert for many days. Her soul cried out to him, begging him to not leave her in the dark, to help pull her from the evil substance consuming her. He felt her feeble attempts to draw herself out, her mind grasping hold of the steady glow that had grown brighter as it pierced the clouds and shadow.

He reached out to her, grappling with the darkness. It pushed at him, trying to throw him away from her. _She is mine_, it hissed, _leave her._ Elrond frowned. What new evil was this? That the shadow could speak from inside her, almost taking shape. He had never seen poison and darkness work like this. And though he would not show it to this foul substance, the Elf Lord was truly afraid.

They grappled, the elf Lord and the shadow. He felt it's icy fingers claw at him, trying to push him away from the woman. But Elrond would not back down. _You SHALL NOT have her!_ he roared at the dark thing that rose up now before him. Elrond struck then, letting all his skill and healing flow unchecked. The presence that could only be felt somewhere behind him reared up then as well. The two powers wound themselves together. And from some deeper part inside of the woman, her own strength rose up to join them. The three combining into one.

The dark storm cried out in anger and fury, the sound echoing loudly in the abyss. But Elrond would not back down. They continued their assault, fighting the dark thing. Elrond watched with satisfaction as darkness fled before them, the shadow falling beneath their united front of power. 

But Elrond could feel his own strength draining quickly at the demands from the woman. There was still shadow there, though no longer as great a threat to her as before. He pulled back from her then, the light fading quickly as she took it within herself, lamenting the loss of brilliant illumination that had been her only beacon among shadows. All strength and energy fled the moment he broke their connection. Airioswen and several other attendants rushed forward to catch their Lord before he fell. Exhaustion was written plainly on his face and his eyelids drooped wearily, almost closed with fatigue.

"Airioswen…" he gasped, his mind fogged with confusion and such weariness the elf Lord had never felt before.

"Yes, My Lord. Just rest. We will take care of her. She rests more peacefully now and the fever has seemed to diminish somewhat. Regain your strength. You were long gone from us." The healer motioned to two of the attendants who were standing nearby. "Take Lord Elrond to his chambers so that he may rest."

The servants bowed respectfully before moving to either side of the Lord, holding him against them as they moved him out of the room and down the corridors toward his own chamber. Elrond struggled valiantly to pull himself from the cloudiness in his mind and attempted to walk. But even that small act of defiance to the fatigue that surrounded him was enough to drain him. He sighed softly, weariness and frustration laced in the sound that only the wind could hear. He should not have allowed himself to become carried away like that. In his attempts to help the woman, he had allowed the healing to continue for far longer than was wise. It would take him a long while to recover and the day was quickly waning. He had only a few more hours before he was to meet with Estel and the others and he would not be completely healed before that time.

He noted absently in his jumble of thoughts that they had reached his chambers and he was being laid against the soft cushions of his bed. _ I must regain my strength. There is much to discuss before the day is out and much to decide. _With those as his final thoughts, Elrond allowed his mind to wander, taking refuge and respite in the elven fields of the dreaming.

The world was grey. But that did not seem right somehow. It should be filled with color and light, sounds of animals and trees and winds. But there was nothing of that sort in this dreary place. There was only grey and black, only silence. Silence. Something that terrified her beyond her years. The sounds of the rivers and falls near her home, the trees and animals of the forest, things that had always followed her as she walked the many years of the Earth were noticeably absent. And it scared her to be in such a place.

Dead. That was how it was to her. No trees, no rolling fields or running streams. The land around her was flat, lacking the lushness of foliage. _What barren wasteland have I been sent to now?_ she thought, her heart breaking at the thought of living in a place without the song of the trees or the stars. She had no wish to be in a place where nothing thrived, where the world was an endless pallet of nothingness. What had happened to her? She knew there was something that she was forgetting. But…what…

And then it hit her. The evil creatures…the battle…ELSIE! She turned frantically, calling out to her friend. "Elsie! Elsie! Where are you!"

There was no answer, only the deafening sound of silence. Meroryan was terrified. Where was she? What was this place? She had failed her friend. Her cry of pain and fear echoed over and over in Meroryan's mind, reminding her of her horrible ineptitude and complete failure towards the one she was supposed to protect. It had been up to her to see that her friend made it home safely. And she had let her down, just as she had let her people down so many centuries ago.

And this was her punishment. And one that she most certainly deserved. But it was a hard pill for her to swallow. Almost she would prefer the dark shadow from before than this horrible aloneness that seeped its way into her heart and mind. She could remember the light. So white and pure it was. Almost she had made her way to it, for somehow she knew that safety was just beyond. But it had left her, as suddenly as it had come, taking with it the only way that she had seen to safety.

Tears gathered in her eyes for the second time in so many days. She couldn't remember having cried this much even when…

No! She shook herself hard. She wouldn't think of that. Not again. Grief was still so close after so many years and her present situation made the emotions that much closer to the surface.

Then she remembered something else that had been hovering on the edge of memory since coming into this place. There had been another presence there as well, fighting with the light, fighting alongside her, strengthening her and encouraging her to fight against the darkness. So familiar, something that she knew. But who? What?

She snapped her head up sharply, everything coming back to her in a rush. _Nadriel!_ "Nadriel! Nadriel! Please! Where are you? I need you! Please!" Sobs threatened to choke her, panic and doubt and fear, all of her emotions crashing around her at once. "Please," she whispered into the silence, the echoes thrumming across the dead plains. "I need you. Don't leave me now. Please help me Nadriel. Where am I?"

But there was nothing. Nothing stirred in that bleak place. Meroryan was left alone in the silence. And she was afraid. "Will no one help me?"

Legolas woke suddenly, not understanding why he had come to such wakefulness so quickly. He glanced out the open balcony doors, noting the way the sun hung low in the sky. _Another hour at least until we are to meet with Elrond,_ he thought. He wondered, then, what had woken him. He sat up on the bed, focusing intensely on the feelings and sounds that surrounded him in sleep. There was nothing that he could recall that would have woken him so suddenly or deeply.

He frowned, rising and refastening his tunic. Some unease began to work its way into his heart. The Prince walked out onto the balcony, hoping to clear his thoughts of these worrisome details, resting his hands lightly against the railing. His keen eyes gazed out fondly over the valley. He had wonderful memories of this place. To him, it was another place to call home. Regardless of the years of uncertainty between his father and Lord Elrond, the Prince of Mirkwood had always found comfort and welcome among the elves of this realm.

Elrond had saved the Prince's neck many times, his healing skills being put to sore use more than he cared to admit. Legolas smiled wryly, letting his mind wander back to the days he had gone hunting with the twins, not prepared for the orc attack that had fallen on their company. At the time, it had been less than amusing, but now, as the elf recalled the events surrounding their return to the Last Homely House, he smiled. Elrond had been less than pleased with the appearance of his sons and the young prince and the fact that none of the trio had walked in on their own power.

Legolas chuckled, shaking his head. He remembered well the lectures of both his father and Elrond and the protestation of both he and the brothers. It was funny now to look on it. They had not been allowed out of sight of the guards for one month after that fiasco.

A light breeze swept its way through the valley, stirring the light locks around his face. He swept his hand across it, brushing the wayward strands carelessly behind his ear. His eyes rose unconsciously to the mountains that sat behind the hidden valley. They were covered in shadow, imposing and threatening in their grandeur. Legolas felt a shiver run down his spine as he thought back on the darkness that had been haunting him for the past days of travel. He wished that Gandalf were here. As it was, no one seemed to know exactly where the wizard had disappeared to this time. Legolas felt the corners of his mouth tug upward.

The wizard had been there many times for the prince, risking his own life to save Legolas'. He would never forget the hardship and toil that had only drawn them closer in their friendship. And he was proud to be able to call the Maia his friend. He was not ashamed to admit that he often shared his worries and doubts with Gandalf and hoped deeply within his heart that he would come quickly now so that they may seek his counsel.

A movement below Legolas' window caught his eye and he noted Elladan and Elrohir as they entered the courtyard below. He smiled mischievously, noting the way they were so involved in their conversation and the way Elladan reached out to cuff his younger twin. Perhaps he would join them, see what he could do to further stir them up in their discussion.

With that in mind, the Prince of Mirkwood, Lord of Ithilien, turned from the balcony, leaving his troubling thoughts behind. He did not notice the lingering shadow that mourned his leave taking, nor the darkness that rose up and swallowed it in his wake.

The rider urged his steed faster, not heeding the blurring scenery that flew beside him. His mind was consumed with other matters more important than the trees and meadows that he passed.

"Come, my friend. We must move more swiftly than this if you can manage." In answer, the valiant steed beneath him snorted, tossing his head and increasing his already swift pace.

Dark shadows were rising in the distance. He must find the source thereof and determine _what_ was troubling this newly freed land. This new threat worried him greatly and if they were to fight it, they must move quickly. He sensed another presence other than the shadow. However, this one was not threatening. Rather, it held a sense of peace and hope, an innocence unmarred by the world.

The rider knew, somehow, that this strange individual held the key to understanding and ultimately defeating the rising evil.

He urged his mount faster. There was little time left. With what information he had garnered from the creatures of the forest and from other sources he would never reveal to anyone, he knew that the danger they were facing was both powerful and knowledgeable. They must act quickly or all would be lost.

Aragorn stood in the room of his childhood, noting the changes and the things that had stayed the same during his absence. The smell, the textures, everything as it was. It was comforting to be back, to feel the comfort and peace of these familiar surroundings. Minas Tirith had been his home for the past year and a half. He had grown used to being in the cities walls, the spacious hallways and stone buildings. He enjoyed living there, being among his people and those whom he had grown close to. His duties had taken him all over Gondor, to all the outlying cities and farms. It was satisfying to no longer hide his lineage, to no longer travel the wilds in order to escape his past.

But he had missed this. The river, the trees,…his family. Aye, he had missed them the most. Elrond, despite his misgivings about Arwen becoming his wife, had welcomed them with open arms. He had been overjoyed to see his half-brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. He smiled, recalling their words earlier.

Elladan had accused him of forgetting about them, though how anyone could ever forget the boisterous twins was beyond Aragorn's comprehension. Elrohir had hugged him so tightly that the King of Gondor feared two cracked ribs. Aye, he thought, it was good to be home.

Light steps to his right made him glance up, a smile gracing his rugged features when he noticed who it was. Arwen returned his smile. She joined him on the terrace, lending him her silent support and love. Aragorn wrapped a loving arm around her slender form, pulling her closer to his side. Contentment washed over him and he closed his eyes as the warm feeling pulsed through his entire body. All his life he had waited for the moment when the worries and pains of his lineage would feel right to him. Now, he was King, and as he glanced over to the beautiful woman standing next to him, his wildest dreams had become reality.

Arwen met his gaze, raising a hand to brush away several strands from his eyes. "'Tis good to be home, is it not, melamin?"

He grinned broadly, pulling flush against him. "Aye! Ah, how I had missed this place." He buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply of her scent. She, in turn, moved closer to him, her hands tracing small patterns on his back.

Despite the peace and joy that he felt in his heart, Aragorn could not help but be troubled by the tidings that Legolas and his love had brought to light. To have defeated darkness only for something just as evil to arise once again. He sighed wearily, resting his cheek on Arwen's head. Feeling his mood shift, Arwen only held him tighter.

"You worry greatly, Estel. Take these last moments that we have together to rest, coramin. The counsel tonight will be soon enough to speak of the trouble that now overshadows the land."

He pulled back from her, all the tenderness in his heart shining through his eyes. "Wise words, dear heart. I will take you counsel to heart. Let us spend these last moments at peace."

Arwen laughed brilliantly at the feral gleam in his eyes, the melodious sound cut short when Aragorn's lips claimed hers. The couple lost themselves in their love, for a moment the shadow forgotten.

Gimli was deep within his own thoughts when the bell rang, signaling the time had come to meet with Lord Elrond Peredhil and the rest of the Fellowship to discuss this new matter. The dwarf had spent several moments resting in the room given to him, but restlessness had driven him to wander the halls of Rivendell.

He stretched his legs, walking out the kinks that he had accumulated over their journey. "Dratted horse!" he muttered under his breath. Why the elf would insist upon riding the accursed beast everywhere was beyond this dwarfs comprehension. That animal he called a horse had _purposefully_ found every bump and dip in the road. It didn't help that they had spent every night on the hard earth. He could still feel the rocks and roots that had managed to finagle their way beneath him as he slept. He scowled, sending several attendants scurrying out of his path without noticing. The elf had managed to look refreshed and relieved every morning. _Blasted elf!_

But no matter how he cursed him, or how he argued, Gimli could not contain his worry for the pointy eared male that he called friend. Elladan and Elrohir had confirmed that the elf had indeed made it safely within the borders of Imladris, but the fact that he had yet to show his _pretty_ face concerned Gimli. Legolas was not one to sleep for long periods of time unless truly exhausted. He had not noticed that his friend had not been sleeping well nor had Legolas complained about being overly tired. But that was not saying much. That stubborn headed elf never spoke to anyone of his pains or injuries.

Gimli scowled, remembering the mines of Moria. He had raved to the elf about the greatness of those halls and had even spoken of mining to him in great detail. _Great_ detail! Which included all the horrors of mining as well as the benefits. He had never noticed the paleness of his features nor the glazed look in his eyes as he had spoken of cave-ins and the collapsing of stone that could be brought on by haste or carelessness. Only after the dark, after they had formed their close friendship, had Aragorn reveal to Gimli of a cave-in incident involving Legolas when he was younger.

Legolas had gone treasure hunting with Arwen and her twin brothers in the caves beneath the Prince's father's halls. They had been reprimanded by Thranduil for their mischief and ordered to stay inside the palace. It had been Legolas' idea to show the siblings the cave built by Oropher in the Second Age. Without thinking of the consequences, the young elves, if elves can ever be called such, had traversed deep into the caverns below, getting themselves thoroughly lost in the process. Legolas, not wanting to admit their folly, had accepted Elrohir's suggestion to climb out through the hole in the ceiling. But only the twins had made their way through the opening before the roof had collapsed in a pile of rubble.

After the dust had settled, Arwen had found the prince to be half-buried underneath a giant slab of granite. The minutes that it had taken Elladan to go for help had only increased Legolas' anxiety at being trapped in the dark cavern. It was no surprise, then, for Gimli to learn of his trepidation and apprehension at entering caves, or mines.

_Stubborn elf_, he thought, cursing his friend both in dwarvish and in the elvish he had learned from Arwen and her brothers and Legolas himself. How many times in their travels had he heard tell of Legolas being injured or narrowly escaping some vile sort of creature only to fall into a spider's nest or something equally foul? If it weren't for him, he reasoned, the elf would have broken that fragile body of his, the small bones shattered due to his carelessness.

Never mind the fact that he had seen his companion fight off twenty orcs without receiving a scratch, nor the countless times he had been with Legolas when he had more than proven his ability to care for himself. But Mordor would freeze before he would admit to anyone his deep concern for his friend.

The dwarf made his way through the spacious corridors, barely noticing when the hobbits joined him on his way to the dining hall.

"Did you rest well, mister Gimli?" Sam asked, hopping quickly beside the dwarf as hurried steps took them closer to the place where Elrond and the others would join them to discuss these strange events.

"Hmmm. I rested for as long as necessary. How fared you young ones, if I may ask?"

"I missed this place," Frodo said quietly, his eyes taking in the wonder of the beauty around him with awe and appreciation. "It feels good to be back, no matter what the circumstances.

Gimli nodded, gazing on the hobbit with a tender expression in his dark eyes. So much pain, and still this hobbit has found a way beyond the dark. If only we all had his courage and strength. Gimli shook himself from his thoughts, turning his attention to the tall forms congregating before the great doors. A surge of relief flooded him as he spotted the fair blonde figure among the dark ones. _Well,_ he thought, _at least this time he managed to keep his feet beneath him._ He grinned, a devious plan forming that would be certain to give him the upper hand in their verbal matches. Not to mention revenge on a certain pair of twins that had embarrassed him earlier this day.

Marching up to the group, Gimli ignored the elf Lords Elladan and Elrohir and turned his attention completely to Legolas. "Well, my friend. It seems you managed to keep your head on those shoulders this time. Although, I suppose I shouldn't expect any less with a name like Leg'las."

Gimli was rewarded when Legolas narrowed his eyes dangerously at the nickname. He only grinned more broadly as his friend turned his dark gaze on the twins who were doing a poor job of concealing their mirth. This was going to be amusing indeed.

Legolas folded his arms across his chest as he sent his darkest glare at the twins. It was strikingly similar to the look King Thranduil gave when he was truly enraged. It failed to have an effect on the unrepentant twins, however, and the two merely laughed aloud. Indignant, and more than a little ruffled, the Prince of Mirkwood glared fiercely at the doubled over duo. A thought occurred to him then and an unholy light lit in the depths of his storm grey eyes.

"I'm not so certain that I would be laughing as such, Elrodan, Ellahir. I would not wish to offend the only elf who knows of your whereabouts on the night of a certain Mirkwood festival. Especially when ones father knows nothing about the activities that transpired there."

The twins' laughter ceased abruptly and they shared a panicked look before pleading Legolas for his forgiveness. Gimli looked curiously up at Legolas who only smiled in return and shook his head slightly. Gimli shrugged, not really caring. He would get the story out of him sooner or later. The hobbits were curious in their own right and were begging Legolas to tell them the story.

"What story would this be that we speak of?"

All in company turned at the deep voice. Elladan and Elrohir paled visibly as they watched their father stride gracefully down the hall, followed closely by Arwen and Aragorn. "N-nothing father."

Elrond glanced suspiciously at his two sons before turning his gaze on a smirking Prince and the curious beings that stood just next to him. "Indeed," he said, not believing for one moment the words that his twins spoke. No matter, there were more important things to discuss this night. Shaking his head, he waved his arm to indicate that the others should follow him into the room. "Come, friends. We have much that must be discussed and our time runs thin."

The others nodded in agreement, following the Elrond, the shadow at their backs growing with the deepening twilight.


	7. Revelations

**Chapter Seven: Revelations**

The valley of Rivendell was quiet, the sounds of the night the only true noise that echoed through the halls of Imladris. Trees swayed in contentment as the chill breeze wound through the basin, stirring their multicolored leaves. Bruinen flowed on, the sound of its rushing waters a soothing balm to the inhabitants of the surrounding forest. Elves moved soundlessly through the foliage, changing guards for the night, ever watchful and present among the vegetation.

While outside the wind howled, inside a fire blazed merrily in the hearth, lighting the great hall and chasing all shadows away. Legolas could hear the panes rattling, shaking with force of mother natures' power. He could taste winter on the air, crisp and clean. It would come early this year and would be harsh for all. He suspected that they could expect the winter to last for many months into the new-year. He turned at the sound of his name, nodding when Aragorn motioned him over. Taking one last glance at the brooding darkness outside, Legolas sighed and stepped over to the table where the others had seated themselves.

Servants rushed through the great hall, tending the fire and brining refreshment to the weary travelers the sate their hunger until the evening meal could be served. The hobbits and Gimli had lit their pipes upon entering and were enjoying the last few moments of calm before the storm to flow through them. Aragorn and Arwen had seated themselves next to Elladan, who sat to the right of Elrond while Elrohir positioned himself on the left. Legolas took the seat next to the dark haired twin, nodding absently when he was offered a cup of wine.

He turned to his small friends, a half-smile lighting his features. "I don't suppose you will ever quit that habit will you?" Hope was laced in his tone. Sam stared at him, frowning in mock indignation.

"Now, Mister Legolas! That's not a thing to joke about, especially not when winter's comin' on. It's not nice to tease a hobbit about quitting his pipe."

Legolas shook his head, smiling wanly at the muted laughter that rang around the table. "I fear I was not joking Sam," he said quietly, meeting the shocked gazes of his four little companions, "However, I will contain myself to endure your.habits." He grimaced as Frodo blew another very large ring, the burning stench assaulting the fair beings senses. "However foul it may be." His voice was pitched low so that only Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen laughed. The hobbits, not understanding what would cause the siblings such merriment merely shrugged and continued with their leisure, joining the others at the table to begin their meeting.

Elrond, for his part, mostly ignored the conversation and rustlings taking place all around him. He was plagued by frustrated incomprehension. He had no recollection as to what this evil might be. As a Lore Keeper, he felt as though he should have some knowledge about the danger that had garnered such bold actions from the orcs. It was not possible that they acted of their own accord, which only left the question what was leading them and concentrating the forces so smoothly. The darkness he had seen and felt from the woman made his blood run cold. Such unadulterated evil he had not felt for many, many centuries. And now, he did not know what to do. Silently he prayed to the Valar, asking them for guidance and counsel, praying in his heart that Mithrandir would soon show himself and have some answers to the questions he held.

Legolas had been sitting patiently, sipping thoughtfully on his wine and nibbling idly on some fruit. Once again he had found his wandering thoughts turning to the woman he had carried here on Arod. His piercing eyes fell to the Lord of Imladris as he sat slightly slumped, his body language expressing great exhaustion and concern. As much as he wanted to, he could no longer contain his curiosity.

He turned his steady gaze to the Lord of Rivendell. "How fares the woman?"

Elrond met his gaze, shaking himself out of his own brooding manner to see to the task at hand. He looked around the table and noted that all conversation had ceased and the others were regarding him with concern and worry gracing their features. Suddenly, he found himself barraged with questions from all that sat around him. Gimli and the hobbits were seeking answers rather loudly, adding only to further the chaos that had so quickly and unexpectedly dissolved. He raised his hands, silently demanding silence. When all had once again fallen quiet and the servants had taken their leave, Elrond turned to Legolas to answer him. "She sleeps deeply now. The poison that infected her blood was none that I have ever encountered before and the healing was both difficult and time consuming. For now, she and her companion are safe and being well cared for by Airioswen and her aids. Should anything else happen or should she relapse in any way, Airioswen will send for me." Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but Elrond cut him off, nodding his head to the unspoken question in the Prince's eyes. "I understand your concern, all of you," he said, addressing his guests with his eyes, "but we must take care of more pressing matters right now. After we have finished and the evening meal is over, you may take your leave to see them for yourselves. For now, I would ask that you tell me what exactly transpired on your journey here. I would find some answers before this evening is over." He finished speaking waiting for their nods of approval before continuing.

"Now. Estel," he said, addressing his foster son by his Elvish name, "tell me what happened. Leave nothing out. The smallest detail may be of the greatest significance."

Aragorn nodded, beginning their tale and recounting the events of the past few weeks with as much accuracy as he could recall. He had aid, of course, from his wife and the other members of his company, the hobbits sharing their own parts where and when they deemed necessary. When he arrived at the point where Legolas had finally told them of the shadow he had felt, Elrond stopped him, looking sharply at the younger elf. Legolas, for his part, met the intense gaze of the elder, waiting for his question.

"When was it you first felt this.shadow?"

Legolas shifted, pausing to collect himself. "I first felt a presence as we crossed Tharbad. It was nothing substantial, merely.a feeling," he said, trying to express the deep evil he had felt in words. "It was the kind of feeling one gets when he is sitting to far away from the fire, the chill air contrasting with the warmth so close at hand. The feeling appeared to gain in strength as we came nearer to the shadow of the Misty Mountains."

Elrond pondered his words carefully, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. From his right, Elladan spoke. "I have felt such a thing as well, Atar. Legolas describes the feelings with exactness. But they have been quite strong of late to me, radiating ill intent and only now do I fully understand the implications they have presented. The days have been shadowed with mist as the darkness grows bolder."

Elrond nodded, for the first time acknowledging his understanding of what they had been feeling and of his own experience with the strange darkness. "I, too, have felt these strange things." The Lord of Imladris stood, turning to gaze into the darkness beyond the window. He stood there in silence a moment before continuing. "I have no memory of such evil."

Shocked silence radiated throughout the hall. Elrond Peredhil, who had lived for more centuries that one would bother to count, Lore Keeper and Lord of Imladris, in the Common Tongue, Rivendell, did not know what this darkness was. It was Gimli who first broke the silence. "How then do we fight this?"

Elrond turned back to them, his eyes dark and troubled. "I do not know, Gimli, Son of Gloin. I only know that the woman who lies unconscious upstairs, the woman whom you brought to me, Legolas Thranduilion, is somehow our only hope."

Her tears had long since stopped. She had seated herself on a hard rock in the middle of her desolate world, her mind and heart consumed with such anguish, such pain, that everything had jumbled together, creating a haze of agony that was never ending. Her voice was hoarse from crying out, hoping beyond hope that Nadriel would hear her pleas and come to take her away from this place, back to safety.home. She knew, in her heart, that this was not reality, this was not where she was supposed to be. But fear kept her trapped in this bleak place her mind had created and Meroryan did not know how to draw out of it.

In her subconscious she remembered Nadriel's words, words that had long since become lost in the shuffle of her life, no longer relevant, she had supposed, since the death of her family was so long past. But now, in her desperation, in her hurting heart, she could hear them ring true and clear. "Never lose hope in yourself. You are strong, young one. So very strong. Hold tight to that strength, to the courage that I KNOW is in you. Never forget that you are a child of the Tua De Dannaa and that you hold within you the power of the Mistics. Never forget who you are."

These words echoed through her soul, her heart pounding with emotion. Oh Nadriel, where are you? It had been several years since she had seen her mentor and tutor. They had parted when Meroryan had made her way to America, Nadriel stating that he didn't think there would be any place to hide and keep himself hidden for long in the budding society. She had agreed, but deep inside she had been breaking. Nadriel had been there, a part of her life, ever since she had reached her fifth century, Relampago by their sides. But now she had no one, not even the man from her past dreams had come to this desolate place.

She sighed heavily, her thoughts scattering, unable to give her the solace she sought. The shadow again rose, unbidden in her mind. She shivered, feeling the cold dread wash through her again as evil touched the corner of her mind. She had never encountered anything so dark. Pushing her fear and worry to the back of her mind, she focused solely on what had transpired before the darkness had fled, leaving her in this world of gray. There had been the shadow, threatening, painful and harsh. It had strangled her in its grasp, draining her strength and feeding off of her fear and pain. Her anguished cries had only served to amuse it and she could still hear the shrill sound of its laughter in her ears. Her bones had turned to ice beneath its touch, her strength drawn away with every excruciating wave that had hit her. Meroryan had been blindsighted by the agony. And in her fevered mind, she had felt every tingle, every needle of pain.

Her eyes were closed so deep was her concentration. Behind the ice and anguish, she could remember feeling Nadriel and Relampago, their strength and courage flowing through her veins. But it hadn't been enough to keep the shadow at bay, to stop the evil from threatening to consume her. Something else had joined their fight when all hope had been drowned beneath her despair. Something beautiful and pure, a shimmering white light had emerged, slowly at first, then gaining in power as it came closer to her. And the voice, that beautiful, melodic voice that had been behind it. She sighed, remembering the utter peace and joy she had felt upon hearing such a wondrous sound.

In the end, that was what had saved her. That rich voice had dispersed the shadow, freeing her from her prison of ice. Meroryan had clutched desperately to that light, pleading silently with whomever or whatever it was to stay, not to leave her in the darkness of her mind. But it had left, taking with it that beautiful luminosity.

What little strength she had garnered in her brief respite, disappeared as she opened her eyes, drained due to the intensity of her meditation. Their depths were filled with weariness and hidden torture. She placed her head despairingly into her hands. She had never felt so alone in all her life, even when she had started her life without Nadriel and Relampago. "Someone please, come soon."

To say that Sharnok was angry would be putting it very mildly. The Ancient was furious with his minions. They had failed him, and such failures he did not take lightly. Already, three lay dead, their rotting corpses laying in their own black blood, and if Sharnok dared hear anymore foul news that might ruin his plans, he could guarantee the five Captains who stood quivering before him that they would join their companions in death. "Are you telling me she escaped?"

Garnor bowed his head lower to the earth, his frame trembling from fear at the voice who spoke to him. The Uruk-hai could tell what wrath lay behind that calm façade and he had no intention of brining it down upon himself. "There were unexpected complications, O Great One. She was much stonger than we had anticipated and killed many of ours before we had a chance to retaliate. And we were forced to split our forces to chase after her companion. We did not know that there would be another there with her. And then there were the men who came to rescue her. We would have taken her if it had not been for the elf," Garnor spit the name out as a curse, for he despised the fair creatures, "and his friends. We had no idea that they would come from Rivendell to save her and finish my men off."

Garnor stopped his words as he noticed the stillness permeating around Sharnok. Too late, he realized that he had not taken as much care with his words as he should have and had angered the Ancient. "Are you calling me a liar, Garnor? A false leader? Choose your words carefully." Sharnok's voice dripped with venomous ice, fury hidden beneath his tone.

The Uruk captain hurried to reassure his Lord, fearful for his life. " Nay, Lord! Never that! It is by our own foolishness that we had no knowledge of this other. I assure, though, it will not happen again."

Sharnok sneered, "See that it doesn't, else you will be answering to me." He turned away from them, his mind consumed with rage. She had not come alone. That was an unexpected consequence that could play to his benefit later on. For now, he would have to wait for another opportunity to take her. If she truly was in the land of the Elves, Sharnok would have no access to her for some time to come. The elf Lord known as Elrond would have saved her by now and his poison would be useless against her a second time. As a guardian, she would be able to build an immunity to his concoction rapidly, rendering it ineffective against her. He may be able to use it against those that she cared for, however, and that would be where she would fall. His plans must now be altered to adjust for this inexcusable blunder. He could not fail in this. He WOULD not fail in this.

"Go now! Send troops to watch closely the borders of Rivendell. And see to it that you are not caught. Inform me of any movements regarding the woman." As the Captains rose to leave, Sharnok spoke his parting words. "And Captain, do not fail me again."

The Great Hall of Rivendell had fallen silent with Elrond's words, each contemplating what he could mean by them. Aragorn closed his eyes, his brow furrowed with worry and confusion. She would be their savior from this dark? That little bit of a child that lay upstairs, healing from grievous wounds? He could not fathom the truth behind his Father's words, yet he knew that they must be true if Elrond believed this to be so. But why? What would make the Lord of Imladris have such faith in a mere slip of a girl he had yet to even speak to, to even meet and garner a name from?

"Atar." Aragorn's quiet voice drifted across the room, breaking the uneasy silence. "Why would you believe this?"

Elrond stood with his back to them, his eyes roaming the forest beyond the window blindly. He let silence fall once more before speaking to them, letting some of his thoughts be known. "In truth, Elessar, I do not know. My mind bids me bear caution toward this child, yet my heart and my spirit tell me that she holds great knowledge and power. I sense purity and greatness in her," he turned then to face them, his eyes a troubled sea of grey, "and I cannot ignore my heart."

"None here would blame you for that, Atar," Arwen spoke then, her melodic voice calm and soothing to their ragged nerves, "nor would they condemn you for placing belief in this young one. Her companion held great faith in her, begging us to save her, and her trust speaks to me in volumes of the goodness of her friend. I have faith in your judgment, father."

Elladan and Elrohir both nodded their approval, the eldest lending his words of assurance. "You have never led our people astray, father. As Captain of our troops, we will follow, whatever your decision may be."

"Gondor stands beside Imladris. I will not lose faith in the one who has brought me through so much. Command it done, and by my blood it will be so." Aragorn's fervent words stirred them all, 'til any doubt that would have been obvious to any outside observer only moments before, was gone, scattered on the wind of hope.

Elrond smiled gently, not for the first time, nor for the last, grateful for these, his children. They had born much hardship and suffering together and their support and acceptance meant much to him. His gaze swept the room, noting the looks of determination and pride that each of those present now carried. His worry fled then, knowing these people as he did, knowing of their strength and courage, their hope and love for one another. It would be such emotions, such feelings that would get them through this darkness. They would prevail. "I thank you for your faith. I only hope that it is not misplaced and that my words will hold true."

He sat back in his seat, his eyes coming to rest on the hobbits seated a little further down on his right. "Master hobbits, I would not ask you to stay here and fight this evil with us. You have done much to aid Middle Earth and Valar knows you have already paid for your loyalty ten fold. I then excuse you from any duty, any responsibility. You are free to return to your homes, to enjoy the comfort and the life that you have been missing for the past two and a half years."

Nearly all laughed at the incensed looks that graced every one of their features. Each one of them looked at Elrond as though he had sprouted horns and grown a tail. "Now Mister Elrond, that's not nice. To think that you would think we would leave our friends at such a time.well, it's just.just."

"Not nice." Pippin finished for Sam and, Sam in turn, gave his thanks.

"Truly, Lord Elrond, we would like to be here to help in any way we can. We will not abandon those who would not abandon us. If we can lend our aid in any way, then we will do so with all our power and skill." The other hobbits nodded at Frodo's fervent words and Elrond smiled gently.

"I had forgotten the incredible bravery that resides in such a small and passionate people. Very well, you shall stay at your will." He held up his hands for calm as the hobbits slapped each other on the backs and smiled cheerfully at the other members seated around them. Aragorn clasped Arwen's hand, his smile radiating his respect and love for these hobbits. He had seen them face the greatest terrors of Middle Earth and not quail beneath the storm. He was grateful to have them staying by their side. He knew that their courage and light heartedness would be a welcome presence when they finally did face this mysterious darkness.

Legolas had been sitting there, consumed with his thoughts and with the information that Lord Elrond had just revealed to them. The woman. He had known when he had touched her that she was something special. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was familiar to him somehow, that he knew her from somewhere. But he couldn't place it, no matter how hard he tried to come up with a plausible explanation. And then the things that Elrond had just spoken regarding her.Legolas did not know what to think.

"If.she should.die, Lord Elrond, what will happen?"

Elrond turned to look Legolas, his eyes meeting the storm blue ones that gazed steadily on. "I do not know, Legolas. We can only hope that the aid we have given her will be enough to fight off whatever poison is left within her body. For now, we wait," Elrond held up his hand, staving off whatever words the Prince would have spoken. "I know what you would say, young one, and I agree with you. But we must wait and let her body heal itself. It is the best solution for now. She needs what little rest she can garner to battle the force that I felt working inside of her. We will need all her strength if what my heart tells me is true."

"Then, Lord Elrond, you are more wise than I have ever imagined you."

Elrond's head snapped up at this new voice, catching the twinkle in the blue eyes that met his own. "Mithrandir!"

The first thing that registered in Elsie's mind was the pain in her shoulder. Oh, man, what the hell did I do last night? She tried hard to remember what exactly had happened but her mind was fogged and hazy. Everything was blurry. And she couldn't open her eyes.

Elsie started to panic, her fear rising up to choke her. What had happened to her? Had she been kidnapped? Raped! Where was she? She didn't recognize the smells or feel of the room around her. What was going on?

A hand touched her shoulder, making her draw back in fear. There were people here. A voice spoke to another presence in the room, the strange language beautiful to listen to. The sound of a door opening and closing alerted her to the fact that one had left. A cup was pressed against her lips and the cool, clear taste of water made her gulp greedily.

"Slowly now, child. You must not drink too quickly or you will make yourself sick." The soft voice was reassuring and calm, easing most of Elsie's fears.

"W-.where." Her voice was raspy and strange to her ears and she could not find the strength to speak.

"Shh. You are in Rivendell. You are safe now."

Rivendell? What? She struggled again to open her eyes, with some success this time. She could see very little and most was hazy. She could see that someone was leaning over her, wiping her brow with a cool cloth. "Who are you?" She managed to ask, finally finding some sound.

"I am called Airioswen. I am a healer here in Rivendell, under the instruction of Lord Elrond."

What the hell? Elrond! As her vision cleared, Elsie focused her attention solely on the person above her. A beautiful face swam before her eyes, and she gasped when everything suddenly came into focus. Indeed, she was lying in a large bed, soft sating sheets beneath her hands. The room was open and light, the moon shining brightly into the large balcony windows to her right. This place was like something out of her wildest fantasies!

Her attention was again caught by the striking woman before her. Her hair was a light shade of brown, falling in waves to frame a perfectly shaped face with soft looking skin. But there was something else that caught her interest. The woman's ears. They were perfectly pointed!

Elsie's stunned gaze met the amused one's above her. Her shock and confusion shone clearly in her eyes. "You're an elf!"

Airioswen's clear laughter could be heard as it rang through the hall.

"Gandalf!"

Laughing loudly at the relieved and amused expressions that greeted him, Gandalf made his way to the table where all had risen to greet him. Frodo met him half way, hugging the wizard joyfully. "Hello, Frodo my boy. How have you been?"

"I've been well, Gandalf."

"We've missed you, Mister Gandalf!"

"Aye, we have. Where have you been all this time?"

"That is neither here nor there, young Peregrin Took. I have come when I have deemed it necessary to come. And now, we have much to discuss. But I would not be opposed to some sort of repast before we begin was is certainly to be a long and tiring conversation?"

He gazed at Elrond as he said the last, earning an amused and welcoming look from the Eldar. "Certainly, old friend." Gandalf harrumphed at the added emphasis on 'old', but did not make mention of it, choosing instead to seat himself by the new Queen of Gondor, taking her hand in his and greeting her.

"My Lady. It is truly an honor and a pleasure to see you once more."

"The honor is mine, dear friend. We are all grateful for your presence, as I am certain you can imagine."

Gandalf sighed, a frown furrowing his brow. "Aye, I can. We do indeed have a great deal to speak of. But for now, I would regain my strength. Shadowfax and I have run hard this day to reach you and the journey has tired me."

"Indeed, Mithrandir. Regain your strength. We have waited this long, we can wait awhile longer yet." Gandalf smiled at Elrohir's words, thanking him silently for his understanding.

Food was brought and all made quick work of the succulent meats and vegetables placed before them. Their spirited banter and conversation and the reasons behind it was not lost on those who sat at the table. All tried, for a time, to forget the trouble that was threatening them with its growing presence. And for now, the light of their friendship drown out the dark, sending the shadows fleeing.

It was the noise of running feet and shallow breathing that brought all conversation to a halt and everyone to their feet. A she-elf burst through the doors, running up to Lord Elrond and bowing hastily to the company.

"Tiernan, what is wrong? Is everything well?"

"My Lord." she panted, trying desperately to catch her breath from her sprinted run through the halls. Elladan offered her his chair and pressed a cup of water into her trembling hands. She took a moment, calming her breathing.

"My Lord," she began again, "the woman.Airioswen sent me to tell you that she has awakened."

Elrond jolted in surprise. He had thought, with as grievous as her injuries had been, that she would sleep for longer than just these short hours. He expressed his concerns to the elf before him. "She has awakened? Already? Her wounds were great and."

But the elf interrupted him, shaking her head and apologizing. "I am sorry, my Lord. I did not mean to lead you astray. It is her companion. The one with the arrow wound in her shoulder, that has woken."

Elrond nodded, meeting Gandalf's gaze and motioning for his friend to follow. "Mithrandir, would you be so kind as to join me. I would speak with this woman ere she finds the land of dreams once more. Elladan, see to it that our guests are not left wanting and make them as comfortable as possible. Mithrandir and I will return as soon as we are able to recount what we will learn. Our talk can wait until then. We will meet you back here."

The elder son nodded, watching with concerned eyes as the two elders made their way out of the hall. "Come," he said, turning and retaking his seat after the healer and his father had left with the Maia, "let us finish our meal and enjoy our rest. The danger will come soon enough."

His words were not lost on the hobbits as they eagerly took up their forks once more and began again to enjoy the fine elvish food. Outside, the wind picked up speed, the howling against the windows sending shivers of warning down Legolas' spine. A strange sense of foreboding breached his inner peace and he prayed that Gandalf would be able to shed some light on their precarious situation. He did not like the feeling of helplessness, of not knowing what danger they were truly facing.

His frustration must have shown on his normally expressionless face, for he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He looked up into the calm and smiling face of Elrohir and some of his tension eased. He nodded his consent to the twin's silent question, agreeing to let his fears ebb away for now. Mithrandir and Elrond were right. There would be time enough, soon enough, to worry. For now, he would enjoy the meal and the company, basking in the friendship around him.


	8. Shadows and Moonlight

**Chapter Eight–Shadows and Moonlight**

Rage radiated through every fiber of the Sharnok's being. He was surrounded by impotent fools! Pacing the length of his chamber and back, he growled low and menacingly deep in his throat. Orcs were brainless, spineless creatures! They had the wit and skill of a five year old child! Nothing had gone according to his plans, and the dark creature blamed them for all of his troubles at the moment.

The two foolish orcs who had dared to bring him the unhappy news that there was no way to penetrate the valley's defenses and retrieve the woman were now lying in the corners of the room, their black blood pooled beneath the twisted remains of their bodies. He snarled viciously in the direction of the corpses. It seemed that he would have to do everything himself if anything was to be accomplished and victory to be achieved. Those creatures who were closest to the chambers and could see the black mood that gripped their master shrank back in fear of their master's wrath. Several dared to breath their malcontent and unhappiness, but were immediately set down and beaten by their leaders.

Sharnok paid little heed to the anger and fighting among his legion. Ha, _legion. _He sneered at the word, thinking back to the time when he had had a _true_ legion and army under his control. With the power of the _Caer Dathyl_, Sharnok had nearly successfully conquered the races of the world. Lethal creatures, they were, with the strength of 100 men. Talon like claws that would tear any and all who stood in their path to shreds. It was the Ancient's who had disposed of his army swiftly after his capture and retainment. Those great beings, he leered, had herded the demons like cattle, gathering them all in one place before destroying them. He snarled, his claws digging maliciously into the earth. Curse them! They had taken everything from him. And now, he would see to it that these people paid for all the wrongs that had been done to him.

Sharnok continued his pacing, planning and cunning his next attack on the races of Middle Earth. The noise from the outer room dissolved his concentration. Rising up, he swiftly made his way to the outer chamber. A great roar of fury and anger erupted from the very depths of his being. Instantly, all fell silent, shrinking and cowering away from the immense wrath of the Dark One. Opening his mouth, the evil Lord prepared to wreak havoc among his minions. It was the sight of the thick, black blood oozing from several orc bodies that made him pause, a distant memory coming to surface in his mind. Swiftly he strived to recall the vivid details that lie just under the surface. Hissing under his breath, he wondered if it were possible to rebuild that great army of the _Caer Dathyl_.

An idea formed suddenly, a thought so evil and perfect that his demeanor changed instantly, and he chuckled harshly under his breath. He summoned forward his _Uruk_ captain, giving his instruction in his grating voice. "There is a place, to the north. Desolate and forgotten, you will find there the remains of great trees." He leaned closer, bringing his hideous face within inches of Garnor's. "You will know the trees by their blackness. Bring to me the sap of these trees, all that you can collect. Then, send half of your troops to raid any nearby village and bring me all the males, those who are of fighting age, strong, courageous. I want them alive, unspoiled."

Garnor heard the command laced with that warning and he nodded, bowing low with his hand over his heart, replying, "It shall be done as you say, master."

"Do not botch this, Captain," the voice was soft, malice and blackness seeping through every tone and word. "I will not accept your failure again."

Bowing low, the _Uruk_ captain left the evil being's presence, summoning his commanders with a sweeping fist and fierce scowl. When they had gathered, he spoke. "Lokin, Rishkau," he said, pointing to the biggest two, "you will take half these maggots and head north. Once you find the black trees, you will bring back all the sap that has been asked for." Growling menacingly, he laced his next order with a dire threat. "Do not lose a drop, or I will have your skin."

Nodding the two _Uruks _headed off, shouting orders and brandishing whips to get the orcs moving and on their feet. "Hoklai," Garnor turned to the deformed creature standing to his left. "You will follow me. Tonight," he said, smiling wickedly, "we hunt men." His commander snarled his pleasure, turning sharply to spit out orders to another group of _Uruk-hai_ waiting in the bowls of the cavern. Armor was donned, snarling and hissing with pleasure. In the gathering darkness, the two groups left the cave, splitting so that one group headed directly north, while the other went north and west, each growling their pleasure at their activity. The clamor that rose with their departure was enough to be heard miles away.

On the plains of the Rhovanion, a group of elvish riders halted their mounts. The horses shifted restlessly while the noise and clamor that reached sensitive ears caused each face to line with worry and anger. A tall figurehead rode at the front of the column, fair and bright as are all elves in their way. He raised his hand for silence to fall among the whispering elves, listening carefully to the fading sounds of orcish feet and armor.

A rider approached him from the side, whispering almost silently. "Two groups, _Hir nin_. One goes north, the other heads westerly."

The fair head nodded his understanding, piercing blue eyes penetrating the gloom of the night to watch the distant blackness move over the land like a sweeping plague. "They move hard," he breathed, turning his head to study the path they had come from, memorizing it for future reference. At his signal, they began their journey again, swift footed steeds carrying them closer to their goal. They did not stop to rest themselves, only their horses. All understood their leader's haste. Indeed, they shared his desire to reach the valley of Imladris as swiftly as possible. They hastened on, their horses strides light across the earth, as is the way with all good elven steeds.

The wind picked up, blowing the golden hair from eyes the color of sleet and just as hard. His full mouth was a grim line as they rode. His desire to reach the Hidden Valley was two fold. He needed the information that would provide them a way to defeat these creatures, yes, but more importantly, there was one who now rested in Imladris that he had not seen in too many months. For an elf -one who did not mark the passage of time- it had been a long time indeed since he had laid eyes on his child. To the friends and guards who had trained and study with the youth, it had seemed an age. To the sons that rode with him, it had felt like a lifetime. To a father, it had felt an eternity.

They rode harder still, their mounts detecting the new tension that flowed through the lithe bodies mounted atop them. Graver still had this impending sense of doom become. The sheer amount of orcs that they had just spotted and heard had many wondering if Sauron had indeed survived the destruction of the Ring. These thoughts, and more, raced through the company as they drew ever closer to the Misty Mountains and the pass of the Old Ford. It was the most direct route to Rivendell from the Halls of the Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen. Their goal was to reach the pass this evening, resting briefly to feed and water their mounts before continuing through the mountains at dawn. In three days hence they should arrive in Rivendell and the relative safety of Lord Elrond's Hall.

Urging Sadron to even greater speed, the leader pressed them onward. The faint sounds of clanking armor were still echoing across the plain, but they could no longer see the enemy's movements. The captain of the Home Guard stretched his senses, searching for the enemy in front of them and behind. For now, they appeared to be safe. Smiling wryly, he thought that it was a good thing that the armies of darkness seemed to be congregating in one place at this moment. Though the very fact that they were doing so was troubling, it made traveling much easier.

The shadows had grown long indeed by the time that the travelers reached the place decided upon to rest. They led their horses to a shallow stream, allowing them to drink their fill while they discussed the growing darkness. King Thranduil listened with only half an ear to their talk. His mind was elsewhere this night. In his heart he was already in Rivendell, reuniting with his youngest child after being separated for so long. Closing his eyes, he raised his face to the wind, inwardly searching for the bond that told him all was well with Legolas.

A small frown furrowed his brow as he noted the confusion that surrounded his child. Something was wrong, although it was not physical in nature, and his son's feä felt as though it was being pulled in two. The soft sound of footsteps startled Thranduil out of his reverie, and he turned his attention to his eldest son, Caranthir.

"You are troubled this night, _adar_." It was a statement, rather than a question. Thranduil smiled wryly, even as he acknowledged the fact that his eldest had the ability to read him so well.

"Yes," the King answered slowly, pausing to measure his words.

"You are worried about Legolas." Caranthir smiled at the look Thranduil knew was on his face. "It is a worry we all share, _adar._ Perhaps not so much as you, but he is well loved by all our people." That said, Caranthir turned his gaze to the stars. They shone brightly this night, without thought or regard to the ever increasing shadow.

"There is something wrong," the King's voice was soft, little more than a whisper. "It is not physical, more an indistinct feeling of...confusion."

Caranthir turned an inquisitive gaze on his father's profile. He admired this elf, he thought. There was so much strength in him, in his proud features and regal bearing. Every time he looked at his father, he felt such pride and love. As did all of his children, as Caranthir knew. Since their mother's death so many centuries ago, Thranduil had become both their _naneth_ and _adar_. He made certain that all was taken care of, and he was never too busy with matters of the kingdom to make time for his children. Theirs had been a house of love and joy, peace and serenity found in their rather large, by elven standards, family. Yet Caranthir could remember well the little whirlwind that his brother Legolas had been as an elfling. A certain incident involving the large banner in the dining hall that depicted the battle of the First Age sprung to mind.

Thranduil turned and caught Caranthir looking at him. "Dare I ask, _ion nin_, what brings such a look of amusement to your face?"

Caranthir shook his head, smiling at his father. "It was nothing, _adar_. I was merely thinking, is all." He paused, his brow furrowing in thought before continuing. "Is Legolas well, _adar_?"

Thranduil sighed, not at all certain how to answer this son. After a brief moment, he spoke. "I do not know, _ion nin_. I only know that his heart is troubled, and his feä does not feel…intact."

In the silence that followed, father and son shared in the calm before the storm. Then, the softly whispered conversations of the other elves reached them, and Thranduil shook himself firmly out of his reverie. Turning, he spoke softly to his mount before motioning his company that they should depart. As they headed once more along the trail, Thranduil touched the bond he shared with Legolas one last time before he concentrated on the path before him. They would reach Rivendell in mere days. He would just have to hold his patience a little longer.

There was a fine edge to the night. An imperceptible feeling of nature holding her breath. Even the night cricket's song seemed stilted this eve, as though one sound might burst the fragile dam holding back an entire flood of danger and evil. It was through this tension that Gandalf and Elrond made their way to the Halls of Healing. Each lost in their own thoughts. The darkness seemed almost oppressive in the peaceful valley. Whatever danger lay in wait, it did so with barely restrained violence.

It was Gandalf that broke the silence.

"You say that their party came across them near the Trollshaws?"

"Indeed. It disturbs me greatly that the enemy came so close to our borders. That I did not realize the danger in time is also greatly disturbing." Elrond's brow was furrowed, a sure sign that he was agitated.

"There is an evil at work here, my friend. An evil that even I do not understand." Gandalf's voice softened to nearly a whisper.

When he caught the sharp look Elrond threw him, Gandalf smiled ruefully. "Do not look at me in that way. There is much that I do not know, Peredhil," a weary sigh drifted past his lips. "So much that I do not know. The very nature of our new enemy eludes me. It was a discordance that led me here; indistinct, faint. Almost a whisper on the wind. Whatever power this creature possesses, I fear that it is far greater than any we have ever faced in the history of Middle Earth."

Shivers of dread raced up and down Elrond's spine. If the Wizard's words proved true, then there was no hope left for Middle Earth. What Sauron and Melkor could not accomplish, would finally come to pass. His sight drifted, past the moonlight and the stars. He knew only too well what that evil could accomplish. It could destroy the most stalwart heart and terrorize the most courageous of men. Or elf.

Shaking his head, he forced himself back to their current problem. "How do we defeat this enemy, _mellon nin_?"

Gandalf made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. He sighed deeply before revealing his thoughts to the elf. In as bored a tone as he could manage, Gandalf said, "Perhaps it will not be so difficult as we are making it out to be."

Elrond started sharply, his brows rising with surprise at such a statement. Seeing the look that was being cast his way, Gandalf chuckled. "Make no mistake, I do not take our current situation lightly. But I cannot discount the appearance of these two maidens or the interest of the orcs in their presence here. I do not believe that they would have attacked them so close to an elven stronghold without great purpose. Indeed," he continued, straightening slightly as they neared the doors to the healing chambers, "whatever shadow now lies over this land, I believe that its purpose is tied to their being here at this time. We will have to believe that the Valar had a reason for bringing them to us."

Elrond absorbed this information for a moment before replying. "They may hold some answer for us regarding our new enemy," he mused aloud. Gandalf merely nodded, pausing to allow Elrond to precede him into the woman's room. For the time being, it suited his purpose to stand in the background and merely listen.

The healing rooms smelled pleasantly of herbs and flowers. The lights were a soothing glow in the background, chasing back the shadows of the night. The healer stood off to the side, mixing potions and salves in various bowls and jars. A soft breeze floated through the open balcony doors, bringing with it the scent of lilac blossoms and Dogwood trees. The colors here were soft, soothing. The elves believed that the presence of a room aided in a patient's recovery immensely. The elves here were trained personally by the Lord Elrond. Gandalf inhaled deeply, allowing the weariness of travel to slip off his shoulders.

Glancing at the figure in the large bed that took up the majority of the room, Elrond took in the sight of the woman's pale features and wide, frightened eyes. He smiled gently at her before motioning for Airioswen to join him in the privacy of the alcove. They spoke in muted whispers, so as not to disturb the other patients and to have seclusion for their discussion.

"She is very frightened, my Lord, and her thoughts and heart are confused. She recalls very little of what happened to her and her companion in the glade and when I told her she was in Rivendell, she nearly fainted." Airioswen's distress was evident in her jilted pattern of speech. The normally unflappable healer was wringing her hands so tightly the knuckles were turning white.

Elrond clasped his hands around hers, soothing the muscles and tension from them with a single touch. "Calm yourself, lady, and tell me what happened. Tell me everything that has occurred since her waking."

Taking a deep breath, Airioswen nodded, grimacing at her loss of control. The healer quickly recounted all of what had occurred with the woman's waking. "She was obviously and understandably uncertain of her surroundings. But it was my mention of being in Imladris and your presence, my Lord, that appeared to trouble her the most."

Elrond absorbed this with a small frown. Puzzling over its implications, he asked, "Does this emotional strain seem to be caused from some sort of loathing or intense fear of elves?"

Airioswen shook her head. "No, my Lord. That's just it. I could understand her fear if such was the case. But it is more basic than that. More..." she paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "More like intense confusion and a deep lack of understanding, and this leads to fear."

Squeezing her hands gently, Elrond sought to reassure her. "I will speak with her, Airioswen, do not worry. Whatever the cause of her distress, I will find it out. Has she given you her name?"

Airioswen nodded. "She calls herself Elsie." Her mouth worked with difficulty around the syllables. "I have given her a potion for the pain, my Lord. The _nefelai_ will probably make her sleep soon."

Elrond nodded his understanding. Smiling, he replied, "I do not wish to trouble your patient with bothersome queries and inquisitions at the moment anyways. We will give her a few days to recover from her wounds before we question them."

Gandalf listened with half an ear to the elves discussion. His twinkling gaze was fixed on the slight figure the woman in the large bed. She was a petite thing, barely bigger than a hobbit, with large brown eyes. Her hair hung in clumps around her wan face, a testament to the suffering she had endured and the pain that still claimed her shoulder.

When the two tall men came closer to her bed, Elsie shrunk deeper into the soft mattress at her back. They towered over her, and in her confused state, seemed to be the figures in her nightmares come to life. The dark haired one, the elf, took her hand, his fingers warm against her skin as he slowly eased her fisted fingers open. Strange, but it seemed to Elsie that the heat pulsed from his hands, calming her every fear and reassuring even as it soothed.

"W-who are you?" her voiced trembled, declaration to her pain and fatigue.

Elrond smiled kindly, his tone soft as he answered her. "Welcome to Rivendell, Lady Elsie. I am Lord Elrond and this," he said, gesturing towards his companion, "is my companion, Gandalf. You are under our care here."

Elsie's eyes had widened at the names. Her heart beat a pounding tattoo in her chest and her breathing was shallow. Panic gripped her as she assimilated all that had happened to her and Meroryan and connected it with what was before her eyes. Could it be possible? To be taken to a world that didn't even exist...it boggled the mind. But here she was, laying in a room in Rivendell, and Elrond the elf and Gandalf the wizard were beside her bed. She noted the look of concern that passed across Elrond's face just before the little black spots danced before her eyes. She could vaguely make out the sounds of running footsteps and mingled voices filled with deep concern before she slipped back into unconsciousness.

Elrond was highly alarmed to see the young woman's eyes roll back in her head. To his dismay, she slipped once again into the realm of oblivion, her body tight with strain and her breathing still quick and shallow. He called out to Airioswen and she appeared at his side in moments. "Bring me the _athelas_ and a bowl of warm water."

In seconds, the healer had brought the requested items and the elf lord had crushed the precious leaves into the water. Immediately, the soothing scent of _athelas_ filled the air. The tenseness that had gripped the young woman eased, and her rest became peaceful once again. Gandalf and Elrond shared a look before standing to leave.

"Send for me the minute that she awakens again," Elrond said to Airioswen. He waited for her to give her assent before continuing. "Have you looked in to see how the other fares?"

Airioswen shook her head. "Nay, my Lord. I feared leaving this one while she was yet awake. I will go and check on her now, though." She turned to do just that, but Elrond stayed her with a brief touch on her arm.

"_N'uma_. I will check on her myself before heading back to the banquet hall." After receiving her acknowledgment, Elrond led Mithrandir to a connecting door. The room that he led the wizard into was a mirror image of the one they had left. The feeling in the room, however, was not one of peace.

Gandalf frowned, his piercing stare centered on the thrashing figure in the center of the bed. _This one suffers greatly_, he thought. Moving closer, he could see the beads of moisture that covered her brow and upper lip, the way that her jaw locked tight. Her eyes were shut fast, her breath coming in harsh pants. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side and she moaned softly under her breath. The sheets were twisted about her body, as though some deep struggle had taken place here not moments before. As he drew close enough to make out her features, Gandalf noted that she was a lovely creature, with fair skin and dark hair, the color unidentifiable in the dim interior light. Delicate brows rose gracefully over long, thick lashes. Her bone structure was exquisitely fine, her mouth full. Looking at her, Gandalf somehow knew that her eyes would be a shocking emerald green.

For a moment, the sound of her harsh breathing was the only noise that broke the unnatural stillness of the room. When next Gandalf spoke, his voice was a whisper.

"What ails her? I have never seen an orc poison affect someone in such a manner before."

Elrond sighed, taking a damp cloth from a bowl on the nightstand. He wrung it out, gently wiping her face and brow before replying. "It is not poison, _mellon nin._ I know not what causes this distress and sickness," he whispered. "Her wounds are not extensive. She will heal well, given time. And yet, there is something here that I cannot see. Something that attacks her dreams and, I know not how, her body as well." He replaced the cloth and laid his palm on her forehead. Closing his eyes, he murmured soothing words of comfort and tranquility in her ear, all his concentration focused on easing some of her pain and distress. After a moment, she quieted, her body still tense, but no longer tossing restlessly about.

Slowly, the elf lord eased away from her. He noted the intense pallor of her skin and the pinched look of her features. _The shadow still affects her deeply_. He had felt that sickening wave of evil when he had placed his hand on her once again. His brow furrowed, Elrond could only wonder at the source of the blackness that lay over her. There was no residual poison in her wounds for the potions he had mixed and given her would have taken care of them in short order. No, this was no effect of poison. At least none that he had ever seen. This was something else. Something darker, more sinister.

He gestured that Gandalf should follow him and they left the room quietly. Gandalf waited patiently for Elrond to give his instructions to a hovering servant before they headed towards Elrond's study. It was a short walk, for the Lord of Imladris preferred to have his books and medicines close to the healing halls. They spoke not, opting for the privacy of the study to continue their conversation. Once inside, Elrond poured each of them a cup of wine. The fire had already been lit, and the warm glow cast gentle shadows about the room. Two chairs with thick cushions had been placed a comforting distance from the fire and Elrond gestured for Gandalf to take a seat before joining him there. A peaceful silence descended on them while each contemplated their own thoughts.

Clearing his throat, Gandalf was the first to speak. He placed his wine on the small table that sat between them, his voice soft in the night as he looked thoughtfully at his friend. "What ails her then, _mellon nin, _if it is not poison?"

Elrond sighed, placing a weary hand on his forehead while he, too, set aside his goblet of wine. "I do not know where to begin, Mithrandir. There is nothing specific that I have been able to determine with regards to her condition."

Placing a comforting hand on the elf lord's shoulder, Mithrandir replied, "Start at the beginning and we will see if we cannot come up with a plausible solution for curing her of this illness."

Elrond smiled ruefully, nodding slightly before taking a deep breath. "I underestimated the gravity of her condition when she was first brought to me. She had two very serious wounds. One, a deep gash on her right arm and the other in her left shoulder. Both were poisoned and her fever was very high." He sighed, rubbing his temples with his hand.

"But this is not what is causing her current malady, is it." It was not a question.

Elrond smiled wryly. "Very astute of you, _mellon nin_. No, indeed. This...illness is caused by something else entirely." The elf lord leaned forward, his look one of intense concentration. "There is a shadow upon her. One that troubles me greatly."

Gandalf frowned, sitting straighter in his chair. "Shadow? What sort of shadow is it that you feel?"

Elrond pondered for a moment, searching for the right words before answering. "It is strange, Mithrandir. The instant I touched her, it was like being lit from deep within by iced fire." He stopped, once again organizing his thought before speaking again. "I have never before felt such evil," Meeting the wizard's eyes, he spoke in a quiet, subdued voice. "The shadow spoke Gandalf."

A look of shock crossed the wizard's normally inscrutable features. Sitting upright in his chair, Gandalf frowned heavily. "What do you mean it _spoke_?"

"Exactly that," Elrond replied. "It demanded that I _give_ the woman to it. It was very angry that I was attempting to aid her."

Elrond watched as Mithrandir sat back, one hand coming up to stroke his beard thoughtfully. Silence fell once more on the two friends, but this time it was ripe with tension and uncertainty. Mithrandir puzzled over the information he had just received. He could not recall such a phenomena occurring, not from all his studies.

Pulling his pipe from his cloak, he proceeded to light it, so lost in his thoughts that he did not pay any heed to Elrond's sigh of resignation as he moved his chair a little further away. Habit had him puffing quietly while he meditated over these bizarre events. A shadow that spoke, that had the ability to cause physical harm to an ailing person that shared no physical contact with it. _Most troubling indeed,_ he thought. An elusive wisp of memory, a meddlesome trace of recollection long forgotten fluttered against Gandalf's mind. But it was gone before the wizard could even ponder on it.

A whisper of breath that was a smothered cough broke his intense concentration. Glancing over, he noticed the pained look of abdication on Elrond's face. Chuckling, Mithrandir hastily put out his pipe, turning with a twinkle in his eye to look at the elf Lord. "I am sorry, old friend," he said, tapping on his pipe to loosen the weed from within. "I am forgetful at times."

Elrond smiled wryly. "I know your habits by now, _mellon nin_. I think that a little smoke will not kill me," he grinned. "Especially not after all these years."

The two friends shared a laugh. "Tell me Mithrandir," Elrond said, "What is it that held your attention so vividly just moments ago?"

The wizard stood, his white robes fluttering in the slight breeze that rippled through the open window. "I was merely recalling history."

Elrond smiled knowingly, tracking the wizard's movements across the room. "Indeed. What a daunting task for one as old as you."

Gandalf threw the Peredhil a look of annoyance. "I would not be so hasty with my speech if I were you, Elrond Peredhil."

Chuckling, the Lord of Imladris stood to join his friend at the window. "Indeed," he began, gazing out into the night. "I myself have been searching in my books and memories." He paused for a moment, drawing peace from the sounds of the night before continuing. "I have found nothing to aid us in our cause. In all my healing, in all the lore and records, I can find no other such occurrences."

"Hmm." Leaning against the marbled railing, Mithrandir watched two elf maidens hurry along the pathway that led to the Hall of Fire. "There is something," he whispered, causing Elrond to lean closer in order to hear him, "something that I cannot recall completely. A whisper of memory that is as elusive as smoke. Perhaps it is nothing. But," he said, turning to Elrond, "it may be everything."

Elrond nodded, accepting the cryptic words for what they were. "We will have to wait, then, until these women wake. And let us pray, Mithrandir, that shadow holds It's attack."

Gandalf shook his head ruefully. "I do not think that time is something we have in great abundance, Elrond. This is the breath before the storm. Peace," he said, looking back out into the night, "is no longer our option."

_Ermm...wow! I really can't believe that it's been so long since I've finished a chapter and posted it. Good heavens, how time flies! I can honestly say, though, that I have been busy beyond belief these past long, long months (years). Internships that involve chemical synthesis take a lot of time during the summers. Fortunately, this summer is a lot easier and there's no family crisis (yet) to take my time. We've suffered some very hard setbacks in our family with several deaths that have really been a blow to all of us. I hope you can forgive me for being so tardy with this update. And I hope that all who've been so kind and patient with me will enjoy it as much as they've enjoyed the rest so far. Bear with me, I know it's slow going, but I promise that I'm working on new ideas and chapters as time permits me. _

_This chapter is especially dedicated to a good friend of mine whose been so wonderful through all the strife that's been a part of my life lately. Jessica, you are such a beautiful person! Thank you for standing by me when things got hard! Luv ya, peaches! Ok, let me know what you think! The next chapter will bring a few surprises I think ;). _

_Phoenix_


End file.
